


Until the Fog Lifts

by ArtjuiceRP



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cursed Captain Hook | Killian Jones, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 358,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtjuiceRP/pseuds/ArtjuiceRP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cursed!Killian AU: Emma Swan has more than enough to deal with. For one, her son believes the entire town of Storybrooke is cursed. She definitely doesn’t have time for the mysterious pawnbroker, Killian Jones, even if Henry insists that he’s the prince she’s meant to be with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my latest fic! As it's a cursed!Killian AU, there are some scenes that you'll recognise from the show (but hopefully not too many!) I hope you enjoy this - feedback would be great!
> 
> Thank you to Hawkeye733 for beta-ing!

#  Part 1

**Chapter 1**

Emma could hear someone whistling and that was how she knew she  _wasn't_ back in her apartment. That the previous night had been real. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, she could pretend that it was just a dream. She had had similar dreams before on the days where she felt her loneliest, painful dreams where her son showed up at her door and found her.

Sometimes, the dreams would only hurt because when she woke up, she was alone. Other times, her son would have searched for her and then decided she wasn't worth it when he met her.

The fact that it was real made things even worse. She had wished she wasn't alone on her birthday, and he'd knocked on the door. He didn't even need to tell her who he was, she could see Neal's features in his face, but she had tried to deny it, only for a minute, because it seemed so impossible that he was there.

Now, whenever Henry realised she  _couldn't_ be a mother and left her alone again, she would know his name and what he looked like. She would know  _him_. And on the days where she thought of the son she gave up, the days that came more often than she would ever admit, everything would feel so much worse.

"Shut up, Leroy!" A woman's voice grumbled and Emma figured she needed to open her eyes, because although she knew she wasn't back in Boston, she wasn't entirely certain where she was. So she buried what she was feeling, hid it away, and then took in a deep breath and opened her eyes.

She only felt a mute sense of resignation and confusion when she realised she was behind bars, her eyebrows raised in shock when she saw another woman sharing the cell with her.

"I can whistle if I want to, sister." A man replied angrily, and Emma peered past the woman to see that the speaker is in the other cell. "I'm not gonna stop doing what I want because you got drunk and disorderly again."

And he kept whistling.

"You were just as drunk." The woman grumbled, standing up and tugging her dress down as if it were long enough to cover anything and then tottering over to the cell door. She seemed completely oblivious to Emma.

Emma took advantage of that, sitting up from the cot and running a hand through her hair. The last thing she remembered was swerving her car to avoid a wolf - and what was  _that_ all about? - and she wasn't enjoying waking up inside a cell for the first time in a decade.

"Jones!" The woman yelled out the name, and Emma turned to see who she was talking to. A man was striding into the station, wearing a leather jacket and vest over a surprisingly dark floral shirt and looking  _very_ attractive. His hair was mussed, as though he had just rolled out of bed, and Emma raised an eyebrow when she noticed that he was wearing eyeliner.

She knew he wasn't the Sheriff, so she wondered why he was swaggering into the room at such an early time in the morning.

"You here to get me out?" The woman asked, and he chuckled lowly, coming to a halt in front of the scantily dressed woman and hooking one thumb into his pocket, posturing so his hips were angled slightly towards her. "I have a library to open."

"You and I both know, Lacey, that you never open the library on time." he drawled, a dangerous smirk on his face. "You're usually here. I'm sure your other regular visitors know not to arrive at this early hour."

"And  _I_ know you're here to bail me out again." Lacey said, and Emma watched as she leant closer to the cell door, rested her arms on the bar and curled her finger to gesture the man closer. "Why don't you come here and let me thank you?"

"You know I'll never take you up on that, love." Jones said, pointedly stepping back. "We'll just add this to the money you owe me. I have to say, I'm going to be very wealthy when you finally pay me back."

"You'll be waiting a while." Lacey said with a shrug, stepping back and starting to fidget with her hair.

"I'm good at waiting." Jones replied with a cold smile. "The Sheriff will let you out. I just thought I'd let you know before I headed into work."

Lacey didn't say anything else, retreating back to the corner she had been sat in earlier. Jones started turning, and Emma felt confusion run through when he caught sight of her and  _stopped_. His eyes widened, his  _very_  blue eyes, and his jaw dropped slightly. Emma had been looked at that way before, but not when she was in her leather jacket and jeans and trapped in a cell. Maybe if she was in a skin-tight dress, she wouldn't be so confused, but he looked like all the breath had just been knocked from him.

She stood up, and wandered over towards him, resting her chin on the horizontal bar and then tilting her head slightly.

"It's you." he breathed, looking her up and down and then shaking his head slightly, as if he couldn't believe he was looking at her, except that made absolutely no sense, because Emma was completely certain she'd never seen this man before in her life.

She would remember if she had seen this man before.

"Really?" she sighed, because he had to have heard of her arrival. There was no other explanation for his response. "Things get around fast in a small town."

He blinked at her, licked his lips - and _that_  was annoyingly attractive - and then slowly nodded his head. "That's  _exactly_  it." he told her, running a hand through his hair. "Rumours abound and all that. And now I'll be going."

She watched him leave, and not only was that the  _strangest_ first conversation she'd ever had with anyone, but she was certain he had been lying.

She didn't want to dwell on it, not when she could feel the other inhabitants of the cells starting to turn their attention to her. She didn't want to talk to them - she wanted to be released, get in her car and get the hell out of Storybrooke.

Although she'd have to give Henry his book back first.

She could see the angry man, Leroy, opening his mouth, preparing to speak to her, but then another voice echoed through the station before he had the chance. "Lacey, you've been bailed out again. And Leroy, if I'm going to let you out, you need to behave. In fact, that goes for both of you. Stay out of trouble."

"Seriously?" Emma asked, stepping back to allow the Sheriff to unlock the door and then watching Lacey strut past her, the woman making sure to trail her hand across the Sheriff's arm as she passed. The Sheriff rolled his eyes, and Emma guessed that this was a common occurrence.

"As for you, Miss Swan, I guess Regina's drinks are a little stronger than we thought."

Not only did Emma know for certain that she wasn't even tipsy, she thought it was a bit unfair for him to say that given the state of the woman who had just left, but he had a kind smile and she  _knew_ he didn't mean it like that.

She still wanted to make sure he knew what happened. "I wasn't drunk." she stated confidently. "There was a wolf standing in the middle of the road."

"A wolf." From the doubtful expression on his face, Emma thought she might have made things worse. Or at least made him more inclined to doubt her when she insisted that she was sober. "Right."

Then the Mayor - Henry's mother - rushed in, and Emma knew that leaving Storybrooke was going to take a bit longer than she had hoped.

~~~*~~~

It turned out Henry had gone missing again, and Emma determinedly tried to ignore the memories of her own attempts to flee from foster homes, but it was impossible to stop herself from worrying that Henry wasn't happy, that she would leave him in Storybrooke and he would be miserable.

But she had to leave, because she  _couldn't_  stay.

She would make sure he was safe, was home, and then she'd give him his book and she'd leave. And this time, she would make it past the Storybrooke sign.

It seemed that, for some reason, a small town like this required more than the usual amount of people needed to find a little boy. The Sheriff had accompanied her to the Mayor's house, Regina insisting she didn't want Emma walking around unwatched after being arrested the night before.

Emma had gritted her teeth and let the comment go. The woman's son was missing, it was understandable that she was irritable.

What Emma hadn't expected was for Regina to make another call and ask someone else to come and assist them.

The man from before, Jones, was standing outside the Mayor's house when they got there, looking very impatient and then following them through the large house into Henry's room. Emma felt strangely on show when she sat at the computer and began to boot it up, the Sheriff kneeling down beside her and Jones hovering at her shoulder and watching her every move.

"This is far too many people for a simple job." Emma pointed out, loading up Henry's inbox and sighing at the lack of emails. "I can find him, even without his emails. A little hard-disk recovery and we'll have him."

"I'm more old-fashioned in my techniques." The Sheriff said as Emma slid the USB into the computer port and watched the program run. "Pounding the pavement, knocking on doors. That sort of thing."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, mate." Jones chuckled, Emma twisting to look up at him. "Graham here can be a good huntsman, if he puts his mind to it."

And then Jones smiled, a strange, knowing smile that Emma didn't understand. "Henry's not game. He's a kid." She said sharply, and the man just laughed. "How many animals do you know that can…" She paused, clicking on one of the newly recovered emails - a receipt from - and widening her eyes at the contents. "Spend two hundred and fifty dollars on a website? He has a credit card?"

Regina pushed Jones aside to join them at the computer. "Of  _course_  not."

"Well, he used one." A few clicks later and the transaction record was displayed on the screen in front of them, the card belonging to a Mary-Margaret Blanchard, whoever that was. Emma turned to see Regina's lips pursed, a look of pure anger on her face, and Jones shaking his head as if he should have expected that answer. "Who's Mary-Margaret Blanchard?"

"Henry's teacher." Regina snarled, Emma raising an eyebrow at the venom in her voice.

"Look, we'll go to talk to her and we'll find Henry." Emma said placatingly, a few clicks shutting the computer down again. "It's a small town, there can't be too many places to hide."

"You're saying this about the lad who ran off to Boston?" Jones said dubiously, and Emma hadn't thought of that. Except he'd gone to Boston to find her, hadn't he? Surely he didn't regularly leave Storybrooke. She said as much and Regina huffed and stormed from the room.

"I'll go talk to her." Graham said awkwardly, finally standing up and heading out of the room and then Emma was left, alone, with Jones.

"What are you even doing here?" she asked, annoyed by the smirk that had spread across his face the minute it was just the two of them. "What are you, a deputy?"

"No, love, just a shopkeeper." He answered with a shrug, stepping towards the bedroom door and holding it open, gesturing for Emma to go through the doorway first. "I'm simply doing a favour for a friend. If Regina asks, I'll make sure to get the job done."

"In the mayor's pocket, are you?" she grumbled, irritated by the sarcastic bow he gave her in response. That, and the fact that there was something off about all of his answers. He wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the truth either, and that feeling was unfamiliar to Emma. She didn't like the uncertainty he made her feel with every sentence.

"Like I said, we're friends." He insisted, and that feeling was there again. "I'm not the sort of man to refuse to help out a woman."

"And  _there_  we go." She sighed, finally stepping through the door and starting when she felt the light brush of his hand against her back. When she glanced back at him, however, he looked sheepish, hand clenched into a fist at his side, and maybe he really hadn't meant to do that.

"Sorry, lass."

It was the first time that something he said hadn't sent that uncomfortable feeling through her, and the first time he was telling her the truth

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they saw Regina, coat on and ready to leave, and Emma wondered if maybe she had been meant to follow Regina when she stormed out of the room. "Jones, I'd appreciate it if you stopped delaying Miss Swan. I'm sure she wants to leave Storybrooke as soon as she can."

Again, Jones just chuckled. At least he didn't seem bothered by the cold demands the Mayor seemed happy to fire at people. "I have to admit, it appears you're the one who would rather she depart quickly." he drawled, and Regina huffed again. "But to make up for the time you believe me to have wasted, I'll start the search while you go and talk to Miss Blanchard. I trust you'll be keeping things civil?" The Mayor shot him the most withering look that Emma had ever seen, but Jones ignored it and turned to Emma. "Now, Swan, may I have your number? Not for anything salacious, I assure you. I simply think it might be sensible to have a way of contacting you, should I succeed in my search for Henry."

"Can't you contact Regina?" Emma asked, but she was already holding her hand out for his phone. He beamed at her, the first genuine smile that didn't seem to be hiding anything, and then pressed his old brick-like phone into her hand.

"What if you split up?" he asked, as she was typing her name and number into his phone.

And she'd given him her details without him even needing to persuade her. For a moment, she was tempted to delete the number she had just entered and give his phone back, no number given, but his point was valid.

"Thank you, my lady." he told her, sending a wink her way that almost made her regret her decision, but then he slid the phone into his pocket without even checking she'd done as he asked.

And the odd display of trust was strangely comforting.

"Can we  _go_?" Regina insisted, and again, Jones got to the door first, holding it open for both Emma and Regina.

"See you later, Swan." he said, inclining his head towards her as she passed him. "At least, I hope I will."

~~~*~~~

Emma had left Mary-Margaret at the school as soon as she could. As kind as the woman seemed, it had  _hurt_ when she spoke of Henry, about how he had wondered why anyone would give him up. Emma knew that thought, had asked that exact same question of herself  _so_ many times, but she  _couldn't_  have looked after Henry.

She had known that even before she gave birth with her feet shackled to the bed.

But she didn't know Mary-Margaret, so she'd taken a deep breath and told her it was okay, that she was  _fine_.

When she sat back in her Bug, Henry's book on the seat next to her, she knew she had to talk to him before she left, and she  _was_ leaving. She would have given anything to know  _why_ she had been left alone, as painful as it would have been, because at least it would have stopped all the unanswered questions.

She could at least give that to Henry.

So she followed Mary-Margaret's directions, sighing in relief when she saw Henry sat on the old playground, backpack still on and shoulders hunched.

Emma wanted to make him feel better, even if all she could offer him was fairytales and an explanation.

She parked nearby, tucked the book under her arm and then made her way over to him, sitting down beside Henry.

"You left this in my car." she stated, handing it over to him. He didn't say a word and just kept looking out over the bay, looking out past the old tall ship in the docks, and Emma knew he was staring at the clock tower, waiting for the hands to move. "Still hasn't moved, huh?"

"I was hoping that when I brought you back, things would change here." He said eventually. Emma sighed, unsure what to say. He believed what he was saying, believed it  _so_ much, but it was insane. "That the final battle would begin."

"I'm not fighting any battles, kid." She insisted. "All I want to do is bring you back to the people that are looking for you. The Sheriff, Mr Jones, your  _mother_."

He perked up, surprising her with the wide grin he sent her way. "You've met Mr Jones? That's good."

"Good?" she asked, one eyebrow rising when she saw his grip on the book tighten. "Why? Is he in there? Is he Prince Charming, or something?"

"No." Henry said, clearly bemused by her suggestion. He appeared to debate something for a few seconds, and then he opened the book, flicking through the pages to an illustration he hadn't yet shown her. "But he is in here. Look, Prince Charles looks just like him. I've always wondered who his Princess is, because I've never seen her around town. But when I saw you, I realised it  _had_ to be you."

The curse was already ridiculous - Emma's parents being Snow White and Prince Charming and sending her through a magical wardrobe, but she could  _understand_ , only just, why he might figure that the baby was her. Because he was looking for something to place his hope in, and the name Emma was written across the baby blanket. But for him to believe that she was a fairy-tale character, that she was the Princess dancing with the character that, okay, bore a passing resemblance to Jones, made no sense. No sense at all.

And maybe the Princess was blonde, but Emma couldn't see anything else in the picture that might lead Henry to such a conclusion.

Except maybe he hoped that if Emma found her Prince, that would be another reason for her to stay.

Emma knew that Prince Charming's didn't exist in real life, and she was already positive that Jones wasn't hers.

"No, Henry." she said, shaking her head. "That's not me. I never danced at a ball, there isn't a Prince Charles that's going to sweep me off my feet and I am  _not_ fighting any battles."

Henry frowned. "You  _are_ going to fight battles. You're here because it's your destiny. You're going to bring back the happy endings."

"Can you cut it with the book crap?" Emma asked, slamming the book shut. Even if it was true, which it undoubtedly  _wasn't_ , Emma didn't even know what a happy ending looked like. It wasn't like she'd ever experienced anything near to one.

"You don't have to be hostile. I know you like me," Henry said, smiling at her, and Emma felt all the fight drain out of her. She  _did_  like him, how could she not? He was her son, no matter what she tried to tell herself and he was precocious and determined and he'd  _found_ her. "I can tell. You're just pushing me away because I know you feel guilty." And apparently, he thought he understood, thought he knew what she was feeling, and she gazed at him, wondering what he was about to say. "It's okay. I know why you gave me away." She stared at him, wondering how he could know, because she had never known, had never been able to think of a reason her parents would have left her by the freeway. "You wanted to give me my best chance."

She couldn't look at him - she had to look away - because he was right, he  _knew_ and it sounded like he  _forgave_  her. "How do you know that?"

"It's the same reason Snow White gave you away."

"Listen, kid, I am not in any book. I'm a real person and I'm no saviour." She told him, stalling to try and hide how overwhelmed she was, because everything was becoming too much, but then he looked at her and he looked so sad that she felt part of her walls break, felt a tear escape. "But you are right about one thing though. I wanted you to have your best chance. But it's not with me." And that was it, that was all she could deal with. "Come on, let's go."

She strode off without him, heading straight back to her car, except only managed a few steps before Henry was calling after her. "Please don't take me back there! Just stay with me for one week. That's all I ask. One week and you'll see I'm not crazy."

Emma  _couldn't_ stay for a week, she couldn't get to know him any more than she already did. He'd realise that she was right, that she couldn't save anyone, that she  _wasn_ ' _t_ his best chance. He'd know and he'd be another person to realise that she wasn't  _good enough_. And then she'd be alone again, but she would remember him and miss him and she just  _couldn't_ stay. "I have to get you back to your mom."

She could hear her voice shaking, she knew she was close to breaking and she  _hated_ it. "You don't know what it's like with her!" Henry protested. "My life sucks."

"Oh, you want to know what sucking is?" she asked, because he had to know how  _good_ he had it, because his life  _couldn't_  be worse than hers had been, she didn't know what she would do if it was, because she had given him up so that he would have a better life, so that he would be happy. "Being left abandoned at the side of a freeway! My parents didn't even bother to drop me off at a hospital! I ended up in the foster system and I had a family until I was three but then they had their own kid so they sent me back." She stopped and took a breath, tried to compose herself and she felt herself soften when she looked down at him. "Look, your mom is trying her best. I  _know_ it's hard and I know sometimes you think she doesn't love you but at least she wants you."

"Your parents didn't leave you on the side of the freeway. That's just where you came through."

"What?" she breathed, unable to believe he was still talking to her about his storybook theory.

"The wardrobe." He said, as if it was obvious. "When you went through the wardrobe, you appeared in the street. Your parents were trying to save you from the curse."

"Sure they were." she said, through a chuckle. She had to laugh, she didn't know how else to respond. "Come on, Henry."

~~~*~~~

Emma had been sitting in her car for hours. She had asked Regina one question, if she  _loved_ Henry, and her answer, that  _of course_ she did, had rung false. Emma wasn't certain - too many things in this town seemed off, so she wasn't sure if Regina was actually lying.

But she couldn't leave Henry until she knew, because she had given him up so that he would have his best chance. And if Regina  _was_ lying, Emma needed to know.

She could stay for one week. Henry had asked for one week, and although it would be even harder to leave him by then, she could stay. For him.

By the time she had fully convinced herself that she was making the right decision, that she  _couldn't_ run from this, darkness had fallen.

She found what appeared to be the only place to stay in Storybrooke, an old building called Granny's Bed and Breakfast, wandering into the reception and glancing around awkwardly when she heard loud voices arguing upstairs.

It looked like they didn't get many visitors, cobwebs decorating the check-in desk, but Emma figured that they were still open, so they couldn't be doing  _too_ badly.

"Excuse me?" Emma said, exhausted, when the arguing duo came down the stairs and didn't see her. Her words stopped the fighting immediately, the older woman turning to look at her. "I'd like a room."

"Really?" the woman asked, the one Emma guessed was Granny, and by the way the younger woman peered around the door, Emma decided that perhaps she was wrong. From the looks on their faces, it had  _definitely_ been a while since anyone tried to stay. Emma nodded, and for only a second Granny looked as if she didn't know what to do, but then she bustled into action. "Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally, there's an upgrade fee for the square, but since rent is due, I'll waive it."

"Square is fine." Emma said, wrinkling her nose when Granny dropped the check-in book onto the desk and a thick layer of dust flew into the air.

"Now, what's the name?"

"Swan. Emma Swan."

"Emma." A familiar voice interrupted them, and Emma spun around to see Jones standing in the doorway, a brilliant smile on his face when he met her gaze. "I've been waiting a long time to hear that."

"What, since this morning?" she asked, eyebrow raised, and Jones simply chuckled.

"I'm Killian Jones." he said in response, stiffly holding out his left hand for her to shake, a strangely challenging gleam in his eyes. "It's a pleasure to finally know your name. I have to admit, I feel like I've been waiting a lifetime to hear it"

Emma rolled her eyes, but took his hand, glancing up in surprise when she realised she was holding a prosthetic. He raised an eyebrow, as though expecting her to say something. She hadn't even noticed until she had held it, and she wasn't going to comment now, instead shaking his hand firmly and then drawing her own back, unwilling to hold his for much longer, not when his gaze had softened and he was smiling at her in a way she really didn't understand. "What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?"

"No, Swan, just here to collect the rent." He said jovially, nodding over her shoulder to the Bed and Breakfast's proprietor.

"Do you do everything around here?"

He ignored her. "Rent, Mrs Lucas?" he asked, and Granny handed him a wad of cash, which he stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket without checking. "Cheers." He leaned nearer to Emma, and she couldn't stop herself from swallowing nervously. He really was close. "See you around, love. I hope you enjoy your stay. Have a good night, Mrs Lucas. Ruby."

He stepped back, winked at Ruby, and then strode out the building.

Emma took a deep breath and then shot a questioning look at Granny. "I thought he was a shopkeeper."

"I don't think anyone's entirely sure what he does." Ruby was speaking, and Emma turned to see that she was watching Jones leave through the window, an appreciative smirk on her face. "Not even him."

"Not even him?"

"He inherited a shop." Granny explained. "You may have seen it. Mr Gold's Pawnbrokers? It seems that Mr Jones keeps finding new things that the previous owner had his hands on. In general, though, he owns this place."

"The inn?" Emma asked, surprised by the information. She didn't know what she would have expected, but Killian Jones had not struck her as a pawnbroker or landlord. Then again, all she had managed to gather from the few conversations she had exchanged with him was that he was friends with the mayor and apparently a regular visitor to the town library, which didn't give her too much to go on.

"The town." Granny muttered, starting to write Emma's name down in her book. "He's generally lenient when it comes to rent though. In fact, I'm surprised he remembered to collect it this month."

"He forgets to collect the rent?" Emma repeated with a surprised laugh. "I wish my landlord was like that."

"It is pretty great." Ruby stated with a laugh, finally dropping the curtains and turning from the window. "To be honest, I think  _he's_  pretty great. Have you  _seen_ him?"

"Ruby!" Granny reprimanded, but Ruby shrugged unashamedly. "Miss Swan is a  _guest_!"

"Yes, but she has eyes." Ruby bit out, and Emma was worried things were going to escalate into a full-blown argument again. "I'm just saying, a guy that looks like that and  _doesn't_  ask for rent, what's not to like?"

Granny opened her mouth to comment, but Emma interjected before she had the chance. "I'll be here for a week." she stated, forcing Killian Jones out of her mind. "Just a week."

Granny visibly deflated, and then turned to give a room key to Emma. "Well, Miss Swan, welcome to Storybrooke."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter guys! This chapter is quite similar to the second episode but things will get more and more different as we get further through this! After all, there's some major players in the show that aren't exactly present here...
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everyone who left kudos or comments! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.
> 
> Thank you to HawkEye733 for editing!

**Chapter 2**

What sort of person showed up at your bed and breakfast door first thing in the morning with a basket of apples? Up until yesterday, Emma would have said that no one would do such a thing, but that was before she met Regina Mills.

Emma toyed with the apple in her hand, remembering Regina's poorly hidden threat and grinning because if the mayor thought that threatening her was going to send her running, she had clearly never met anyone like Emma. Threats and passive-aggression were only more likely to keep her in Storybrooke.

And maybe Emma didn't know what Regina was capable of, but if Regina kept acting the way she was, the mayor was going to learn that she had underestimated Emma severely.

Emma was  _not_ afraid to get her hands dirty.

The unflattering picture of her on the front page of the newspaper, headlined with  _Stranger Destroys Historic Sign_ , was  _not_ helping her mood. Sheriff Graham had seemed like a decent guy, so seeing quotes from him about how she was visibly intoxicated followed by mentioning her claims of seeing a wolf, written in such a way that she sounded delusional, was a bit of a surprise.

Then again, he and the mayor had seemed close and she wouldn't put it past Regina to enlist others in her vendetta against Emma.

Before she could actually take a bite of the apple - as much as she hated to admit it, Regina's homegrown apple did look  _particularly_ tasty - Ruby brought her a mug of hot chocolate, whipped cream spilling just slightly over the rim, covered by a dusting of cinnamon.

It looked delicious, but Emma was certain she hadn't ordered it. She told Ruby as much, and the woman grinned at her.

"Yeah, I know." she said, excitement in her eyes. "You have an admirer."

An admirer? Emma followed Ruby's gaze to see Graham sat alone in one of the diner's booths and she rolled her eyes. Emma wasn't in the habit of accepting drinks from men, especially ones who had just talked about her at length on the front page of the town newspaper.

Sending an exasperated look at Ruby, she picked up the hot chocolate and made her way over to him. If he had paid for the hot chocolate, he could  _have_ the hot chocolate, but Emma was not interested in accepting anything from him.

He looked up at her approach and smiled, leaning back against the chair. "Ah, so you decided to stay."

"Observant." she stated. "Important for a cop."

"It's good news for our tourist business," he began and Emma almost laughed, remembering the look of disuse clear in the reception of Granny's Bed and Breakfast. "It's bad for our local signage." She stared at him, surprised by his words, although she could tell he meant it in jest. At her lack of response, he fidgeted awkwardly for a few seconds and then smiled sheepishly. "It's… it's a joke." Emma inhaled, torn between a smile - because he was trying to be funny, and it was sort of cute - and a roll of her eyes. She'd have appreciated a joke that  _wasn't_ at her expense, but it was endearing watching him manage to dig himself deeper into a hole. "Because you ran over our sign."

"The cocoa  _was_ a nice gesture," she said, before he could keep talking and make things even more painfully awkward. Didn't he know that, even if the joke hadn't been particularly funny, it only made things worse when he began  _explaining_ it? "And I'm impressed that you guessed I like cinnamon on my chocolate, because most people don't, but I'm not here to flirt. So thank you but no thank you."

Graham looked from her to the cocoa on the table and then back up at her, and then shook his head. "I didn't send it."

Emma was about to frown and ask him who  _did_ , but the question was answered before she could even say it out loud, Henry turning to look at her from a few booths away.

She hadn't even  _noticed_ he was in the diner. She should have known, shouldn't she, that he was there?

Well, that was one thing to tick off on the terrible mother list - look around a room and completely miss your son, and go and talk to the handsome, awkward Sheriff instead.

_Why_ was she staying? At this rate, a week would be more than long enough for Henry to realise just how poor a mother she was.

"Don't you have school?" she asked, confused.

"Duh, I'm ten." He said, joining her by Graham's booth as he slung his backpack over his shoulders. "Walk me."

Emma could do that - Emma  _wanted_ to do that - but she sent an worried look towards Graham anyway. She didn't want to be arrested for kidnapping Henry or something ridiculous like that, but Regina would probably love pinning such a crime on her.

Graham chuckled. "If you leave now, I never saw you." he said with a laugh, reaching out to take the hot cocoa and taking a sip, a dot of cream on the end of his nose. "I'm happy to be paid off in beverages."

Henry laughed loudly, and Emma smiled down at Graham. He may have given those quotes to the newspaper, although after his adorably terrible attempt at a joke, she found herself inclined to believe he had actually been misquoted, but he really did seem like a nice guy. So she gave him a nod as a goodbye and then followed Henry out the diner, apple still held in her hand.

"So what's the deal with you and your mom?" Emma asked Henry the instant they were outside the diner.

"It's not about us. It's about her curse." Henry explained, and Emma should have figured that the curse would appear in the conversation sooner rather than later, but that doesn't stop her from frowning. "We have to break it. Luckily, I have a plan. Step one, identification. I call it Operation Cobra."

He had a  _code name_ for whatever it is he wants to do, and Emma had to admit she was impressed at how much he'd thought this through.

"Cobra? That has nothing to do with fairy tales." Emma said, playing along as though she was confused by his statement.

"Exactly. It's a code name. To throw the Queen off the trail."

"So everyone here is a fairytale character. They just don't know it?" she said slowly. "Henry, I've never heard of a Prince Charles in any fairy tale."

"Well, he's in my book." Henry replied with a shrug. "He helps Prince Charming retrieve his mother's ring from Princess Leia with the help of Snow White."

That sounded like no fairy tale Emma has ever heard, and she was tempted to take the book and look through it because that story sounded  _ridiculous_  and she had to wonder what other strange stories are in there. What other nonsense did Henry believe in?

"And I'm Princess Leia?" she asked with a chuckle. "Or is that woman in the picture you showed me a different Princess."

"Nope. That's you." Henry said decidedly. "But he can't remember you, not with the curse. He's been waiting here for years. That's because of the curse. Time's been frozen. Until you got here."

Emma didn't even want to consider how Henry came to believe that. The clock might not have worked, but surely Henry had seen people age and change and seen that time  _was_ passing? Not wanting to ask any questions that might upset him, she raised the red apple to her mouth - she couldn't speak if she was chewing - but Henry yelled out before she could sink her teeth into the fruit.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice and she looked down at him in confusion.

"Your mom."

"Don't eat that!" He stole the apple from her hand and threw it over his shoulder - and had he really  _done_ that? Her jaw dropped and she watched the apple smash against the pavement,

"Okay," she said slowly, turning back to face her son. "Uh, alright, what about their pasts?"

"I just said they don't remember. They don't know. It's a haze to them." For a moment she didn't know if he meant their supposed fairy-tale pasts or the reality but his following words cleared things up. "Ask anyone. You'll see."

"So for decades, people have been walking about, in a haze, not aging, screwed up memories, stuck in a cursed town that kept them oblivious." And she already thought it was crazy but saying it out loud like that makes it sound even more insane, but she can't help but smile down at the kid. He really did have an impressive imagination.

"I knew you'd get it!" he cheered and she shook her head in disbelief. "That's why we need you. You're the only one who can stop her curse."

"Because I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming?" she asked doubtfully. "Or is it because I'm Princess Leia?"

"Because you're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming." He clarified. "The Princess Leia thing is just a bonus. Right now, we have the advantage. My mom doesn't know that. I took out the end. The part with you in it." The kid handed her a couple of pages, a large illustration of a man - presumably Prince Charming - holding a baby wrapped in a blanket, the name Emma embroidered on it. And okay, it looked scarily like her own blanket, the one she still had in a box hidden in the cupboard, but Emma imagined lots of babies had blankets with their names on. "See, your mom  _is_ Snow White."

"Aw, kid." she said, still looking at the picture. Of course, once upon a time she had dreamed of her parents finding her and whisking her away, and had occasionally entertained the idea that her parents would be royalty or something, but she had learned decades ago that it wasn't true and it wasn't going to happen, not to her. It was a pretty story though.

"I know the hero never believes at first." Henry said, as though he had expected her reaction. He probably had. She smiled sadly when she realised that he was likely to be used to people doubting him - his own mother sent him to a  _therapist_ , for God's sake. "If they did, it wouldn't be a very good story. If you need proof, take them.  _Read_ them. But whatever you do, don't let her see these pages. They're dangerous. If she finds out who you are... then it would be bad."

~~~*~~~

Emma dropped Henry off at his school - a large, traditional building that was busy with screaming kids and parents waving goodbye - and he left with a broad grin and a wave. His actions towards Emma seemed to catch his teacher's eye, and Emma felt slightly awkward when Mary-Margaret walked over to her, remembering her words from the day before.

"It's good to see his smile back." The teacher said, clearly attributing Henry's happiness to Emma.

"I didn't do anything." She said, trying to change the topic of conversation because  _really_ , all she had done was bring him back home. Besides, she didn't want to think about Henry being left at school with anything other than the happiness he had just displayed.

"You stayed." Mary-Margaret said, as if it was  _obvious_ that Emma's presence was what was making him happy. Emma wasn't sure about that - no one had ever been particularly happy to have her around. No one sane, anyway. "So, does the mayor know you're still here?

"Oh, she knows." Emma said, remembering the woman's quiet anger from earlier that morning. "What is her deal? She's not a great people person. How did she get elected?"

"She's been mayor as long as I can remember." Mary-Margaret said, and Emma frowned at her. That couldn't be true - mayor's were only in office for four years, and even if she kept being reelected, she surely wasn't old enough to have been mayor for  _that_ long. Then again, in a small town like this, maybe things were different. "No one's ever been brave enough to run against her. She inspires quite a bit of, well, fear. I'm afraid I only made that worse by giving Henry that book. Now he thinks she's the Evil Queen."

Emma didn't know Regina well, but she had been in Storybrooke long enough to understand why Henry had decided on that particular persona for her. "Who does he think you are?" she asked carefully, wondering if maybe that would give her an insight into Mary-Margaret.

She seemed nice, but Emma didn't trust people easily.

"Oh, it's silly." Mary-Margaret huffed, an embarrassed laugh mumbling her words.

"I just got five minutes of silly. Lay it on me."

"Snow White."

Emma gaped at the woman in front of her. Henry thought that this woman was her  _mother_? Sure, she had the colouring for Snow White and Emma honestly wouldn't be surprised if she was the kind of person to get the animals to do her chores for her, but  _Snow White_?

And even though she knew that it was ridiculous, she couldn't stop herself from looking just a bit closer at the woman, looking for anything that might strike her as familiar.

But Henry was talking about fairy-tales and this was reality, and it made perfect sense for Henry to wish that his kind-hearted and sweet teacher was part of his family.

She'd done the same, a long time ago, but she'd never truly believed it was real.

"Who does he think you are?"

Emma swallowed, because she couldn't tell this woman that Henry believed that she was Snow White's daughter,  _Mary-Margaret's_ daughter. "He… He thinks I'm Princess Leia."

The teacher frowned, surprise evident in her eyes. "Leia? She's not exactly a traditional princess. Is she in his book?"

"I have to say that these stories aren't exactly the classics." Emma said with a forced chuckle. "There's a Princess Leia in Henry's book, so he believes she's here. That she's me."

"So who does Henry think is your Han Solo?" Mary-Margaret asked with a laugh of her own. "Or is he  _not_ in the stories?"

"That would be my Prince Charles, apparently." Emma told her with a shrug and then faltered. She didn't want to tell Mary-Margaret that Henry believed Killian Jones to be her prince, because that certainly  _was_ ridiculous. Besides, although she barely knew Mary-Margaret, the woman struck Emma as a romantic and she didn't know what the teacher would say if it was suggested that Emma might have found her prince in the weird pawnbroker.

Emma did  _not_ want to talk about Killian Jones, or Prince Charles, or  _fairy tales_  anymore.

"Can I ask you a favour?" she said, trying to change the subject. "Regina said Henry's in therapy. Do you know where I can find the Doctor?"

"Archie?" Mary-Margaret said, seemingly oblivious to Emma's discomfort. "Yeah, his office is across the road from Granny's diner. I'm not sure of the number though."

"Thanks." Emma said, nodding at her and starting to walk away before Mary-Margaret could say anymore.

The conversation had gotten strange enough.

~~~*~~~

Emma had  _not_ expected Dr Hopper to hand her Henry's file, but seeing as he had, she wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

And so, she had sprawled across the bed the instant she returned back to Granny's and started to delve into the worryingly large file. Most of the bits she could understand were similar to what the therapist had already told her - that he was using the book to help him deal with his problems, that he had no idea how to express complex emotions.

But there were other things that Emma didn't really understand - the phrase 'Delusional disorder' appeared more than once and Emma didn't know what that entailed, although she could attempt a guess. From the look of the notes, the therapist seemed reluctant to actually diagnose Henry with such a thing, but he had noted that one of the possible causes - social isolation - seemed to be something Henry was suffering from.

Emma remembered Regina telling her that Henry didn't really have any friends.

Unfortunately, the rest of the notes were a bit too complex for Emma, and she felt uncomfortable reading transcripts of Henry's meetings, so she bypassed them completely.

She debated researching the phrase further, but the 3G on her phone had been messed up since she arrived in the small town. So instead, she just decided to make sure to remember all the useful things Dr Hopper had noted down - tips which basically condensed down to 'don't call him crazy'.

A knock on her door prevented her from deciphering anything more, much to her irritation, and she sighed, dropped the paper onto the bed and strode over to the door, breathing out a surprised 'hey there' when she saw Graham on the other side. "If you're concerned about the 'Do Not Disturb' signs, don't worry. I've left them alone."

"Actually, I'm here about Dr Archibald Hopper." She blinked at him, completely unsurprised. Although she hadn't expected it, she realized that she should have known something was up the instant the therapist offered her the files. "He mentioned you got into a bit of a row with him earlier."

"No." Emma stated bluntly, and Graham raised his eyebrows and grinned.

"I was surprised too, given your shy, delicate sensibilities." Emma wasn't sure whether to laugh or sigh, and settled for a mixture of both. The one good thing she could say about all of this was that Graham, at least, was far more friendly and comforting than the last man who arrested her. "He says you demanded to see Henry's files and when he refused, you came back and stole them."

"He gave them to me."

"Alas, he's telling a different tale." Graham said with a small shrug, and Emma rolled her eyes. Of  _course_  he was. She should have realised long before this that Regina mention of therapy wasn't as innocent as it had appeared, and she wanted to kick herself for underestimating the woman. "May I check your room or must I get a search warrant?"

There was no point in making a fuss, so Emma stepped away from the doorway and strode over to the bed, Graham following her into the room. "This what you're looking for?"

He picked up one sheet of paper with a wry smile. "Well, you're very accommodating." He said, before turning away from the bed to face Emma. "I'm afraid, Miss Swan, you're under arrest.  _Again_."

Emma let him put the handcuffs on, even though there was absolutely no need for them. She was more than willing to go down to the station, because she wanted to show Regina that  _this,_ setting her up and arresting her, was something Emma was more than able to cope with and was hardly going to send her running out of town.

"You know I'm being set up, don't you?" she asked, her voice quiet as the Sheriff carefully held her wrists and gently locked the metal around them.

"And who, may I ask, is setting you up?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't answer, because surely he knew Regina was behind everything, and then she followed him out of the rented room. She smiled at him when he led them out a back door, because she'd rather not parade through the diner with her arms bound, and then he let her sit in the passenger seat.

Clearly he didn't consider her too dangerous.

After only a minute of comfortable silence, Emma sighed. "It's Regina. You know it's Regina who set me up, right?"

"Really?" he said absently, focussed on the road, even though Emma could  _already_ see the Sheriff's station at the end of the street. "And why would she do that?"

For a second, Emma considered simply saying that it was because she was  _evil_ , but she barely knew the woman. "I don't know." she said instead, shrugging and feeling a flutter of irritation when the chains of the handcuffs clinked together. "Maybe she got bored of paperwork and felt like creating some entertainment? Or maybe she drank too much of her apple cider."

"Someone's sounding bitter." Graham teased, and Emma found that she didn't mind his comment, sending him an amused smile as he pulled into his parking space.

"You think?" she stated with a chuckle, using her joined hands to open the car door. "I have just been arrested, again, on the same day that I make my debut in the local news."

"I'm just doing my job." Graham told her with a shrug. "I'm sure things will clear themselves up when I take a more indepth statement from Archie. He's not the best liar, nor the most experienced. Until then though, you are going to have to wait around in a cell again. Although, you'll have it all to yourself. For the first night in  _years_ , I haven't brought Lacey in."

"That makes my day so much better." Emma joked, following Graham through the door and towards the small cells. "I would really appreciate it if you could hurry up with that questioning though, get me out of here as soon as you can."

Graham grinned and nodded, waiting for Emma to enter the cell before uncuffing her and locking her in. "I'll get on it."

~~~*~~~

Emma was getting rather bored. Graham was still out questioning, although she had to wonder where he had gone that meant it was taking so long.

Sighing, she leant her head back against the wall and considered taking a nap until the wayward Sheriff reappeared, but that plan was dashed when she heard the loud voice of Killian Jones once again echoing through the station.

Did he just stop by every day?

"Quit your yammering, Lacey!" he was saying, and an amused laugh escaped Emma when she realised who he thought he was talking to. "Releasing you from this brig every day is a favour, so I can do it on my own time."

"She's not here." Emma said, stifling a laugh when he halted and looked at her in surprise. "Apparently, she wasn't too disorderly last night."

She wasn't sure what reaction she had expected, but the wide grin and the raised eyebrows was not it. "Ah, Swan." he said, sounding unusually happy considering that she was  _not_ the woman he had come to see. "I suppose things really are changing then. I struggle to recall the last morning Lacey wasn't locked up and hung over. I must say, however, that I am thrilled to find you here. Although I imagine it's slightly less of a thrill for you."

"Why are you so cheery?" she asked, eyebrows raising as he crossed the room to stand before her cell.

"Things are changing around here, the weather's mild and there's a nice sea breeze. Why shouldn't I be cheery?" He replied and Emma rolled her eyes, this time unable to quell her grin. "Of course, realizing that I have the opportunity to talk to you has improved my mood rather spectacularly as well."

"Watch it, buddy." she warned, but his expression didn't falter. "I'm not in the mood. Shouldn't you be at work? Is your shop ever open?"

"It's open when I feel like it. I'm the Captain, I can do what I please."

"You're the  _captain_ of your shop?" she repeated and he shrugged innocently. "Do you even have any staff? Or should I say crew?"

"Alas, I am on my own." he said with a disparaging gesture over himself. "Now, I have gold to burn today, what with Lacey's sudden exemplary behaviour, if you would want someone to bail you out of here."

"And then what? Keep you company for the day?" she said with a roll of her eyes, and he chuckled deeply. "Sorry, but I'm not getting into any debts with anyone."

"Fair enough." He took a step closer, his wooden hand resting on the bars of the cell, and tilted his head curiously. "Besides, perhaps I wouldn't be able to afford your release. What did you do anyway? Murder another sign?" He smiled cheekily. "Sorry, perhaps I should have said Historic Monument. That  _is_ what they're calling it these days, right?"

She chuckled, his grin widening when he heard her. "Well, they like to exaggerate in this town. I borrow a couple of files and they take me in for stealing."

"Oh, I'm sure you're innocent." He told her and she quirked her head in question. "I imagine you're the sort of thief that doesn't get caught."

"So you think I'm a thief, do you?" she asked, bristling at his words. She hadn't stolen  _anything_ in a long time, and the fact that he seemed to so easily label her as one was irritating. "Should I be expecting a quote from you in whatever over-exaggerated article runs about me tomorrow?"

"Apologies, lass." Jones shook his head and stepped away from the bars, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I believe I said that wrong. Trust me when I tell you that I think you're innocent. I'm sure Humbert will figure that out eventually, once he's back from his afternoon entertainment."

Emma was going to question exactly what he meant by 'afternoon entertainment', because the smirk on the pawnbroker's face implied far too much for her to let it drop, but then Graham strode back into the Sheriff's station, a frown on his face.

"Unfortunately, Miss Swan, it looks like you'll be here for a bit longer." he said in greeting, running a hand through his strangely messy hair. "Archie insists his statement is accurate, so I'm going to need a couple of pictures so that I can process all of this."

"I'm sure he chirped like a cricket when you came to question him again." Jones said with a roll of his eyes, and it appeared that Graham hadn't even noticed his presence, because he jumped slightly.

"That's not the phrase." Graham said warily, gesturing for Jones to move aside so that he could access the lock. "I'm pretty sure it's sing like a canary."

"My mistake." Jones said, but there was amusement clear in his tone. "That was what I meant."

Emma grimaced when Graham handcuffed her once again and led her towards the white wall, Jones watching the proceedings with interest. Graham left quickly, returning with one of the oldest cameras Emma had seen in ages. She was  _pretty_ certain that these days, digital photography was preferred, but this town seemed to be stuck in the past when it came to technology.

"You know the shrink is lying, right?" she said, the camera flashing midway through her sentence, and Emma knew  _that_ was going to be a particularly good photo.

It was probably going to be plastered in the papers the next day.

"To the right, please." Graham asked. Emma followed his orders, managing to quell a smile when she spotted Jones wiggling his eyebrows at her. She was having her mug shot taken, she didn't want to be laughing. "Why would he lie?"

"The mayor put him up to this." she said, wishing the Sheriff would listen and not take photos when her mouth was open. "She's got to have something on him. He's  _terrified_ of her, just like everyone else in this town."

"To the left." Graham said, and Emma couldn't stop herself from glancing over at Jones again. He had stopped making silly faces, an oddly concerned look on his face. She didn't understand why - he had been amused by her misfortune only minutes before. "Regina may be a touch intimidating but I don't think she'd go as far as a frame job."

"How far would she go?" Emma asked, growing more and more annoyed by Graham's refusal to believe her. "What does she have her hands in?"

"Well, she's the mayor. She has her hands in everything."

"Including the Police Force?" she asked, stepping closer to the Sheriff and catching sight of Jones nodding, his answer invisible to the Sheriff but making her move back again, slightly more wary of Graham's presence than she had been before.

She was going to say something else, but then she heard the sounds of footsteps and turned to see Henry running into the station, followed closely by Mary-Margaret. Emma wasn't sure what they were doing there, or how they even  _knew_ she had been arrested, and had to admit she wasn't too happy about her son seeing her handcuffs. Henry didn't seem to mind though.

"It appears my help will not be necessary." Jones said, striding towards the exit and halting when he was standing just next to Henry. "I'd still welcome your company, Swan, should you choose to provide it."

"I never said anything about keeping you company." she replied, determinedly ignoring how Henry was beaming at her  _and_ at Jones, as well as the curious expression on Mary-Margaret's face. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I said no."

"Shame." Jones said with a shrug, and then he ruffled Henry's hair and continued on his way, the door slamming shut behind him.

Emma shook her head in disbelief - Jones  _really_ was a strange man - and then turned her attention back to Henry, who was trying to flatten his hair. "Henry, what are you doing here?"

~~~*~~~

When Mary-Margaret had told Emma that it was  _Regina_ who had told Henry about the arrest, rage had swelled up inside her. No matter how eagerly Graham seemed to deny that Regina had nothing to do with Archie's accusation, Regina's words to Henry seemed like enough of a confirmation to Emma.

She was  _not_ going to let Regina think she had won.

Emma was striding determinedly down Mainstreet, back towards Granny's and her car, when she strode past Mr Gold's, the shop that Granny said was owned by a certain Killian Jones, and she couldn't stop herself from going inside when she saw the odd display of curiosities through the shop window.

It wasn't the type of shop she could picture him running, and she found it even stranger inside. The shop was dark and filled with a myriad of mismatched odds-and-ends, although there was a well-lit section with a display of nautical objects. In the centre of this was a large ships wheel, surrounded by telescopes and hand-drawn maps, including a couple that appeared to be of Storybrooke and a few that looked like no world map Emma had ever seen before.

"I thought you said that you weren't going to visit?" Jones appeared from the backroom, a brilliant grin on his face when he saw her examining the display. "You interested in that sort of thing, love?"

Emma shook her head, biting her lip nervously when he moved to stand beside her, lingering just a bit too close. "Not really. The maps are nice though. And I never said I wasn't going to visit. Just that I wasn't going to keep you company, which I'm not."

"You can have one." he offered, reaching out to grab one of the maps of Storybrooke. "On the house, if you tell me why you're here."

Emma raised an eyebrow. She didn't particularly want to tell him she was looking for something to help her get back at Regina, especially as they had seemed close the day before. And yet, with the way he was looking at her, she felt strangely as if he already had an idea why she was there. "Curiosity." she answered instead, watching how his face fell slightly at her lie.

However, he still carefully rolled up the map and handed it to her. "For you. Even if you don't exactly trust me yet." he offered, and although she was starting to have no idea how to deal with this man, she curled her fingers around the scroll and took it from him. "Now, may I guess why you're truly here?"

"If you want." Emma said, suddenly really keen to get out of the shop because Jones was far too observant. "But I should probably get going. I was just going to check this place out quickly, so…"

"I have a chainsaw in my truck, which is probably going to be more useful than anything in this place for irritating Regina." he said slowly, and Emma tried to stop her jaw from dropping because he  _did_ know exactly what she was doing. "Not that I'm suggesting murder, mind you."

"I didn't think you were." she replied carefully. He held up one finger as if to tell her to wait a minute then turned and wandered back into the rear of the shop. Emma tapped her foot anxiously against the floor as she waited.

Killian Jones was strange, stranger than the others she'd met in town, and he seemed eager to talk to her, something which unsettled her quite a lot. She barely knew him, and yet he sent her looks as if he  _understood_ her and he smiled at her as if she was the best thing he'd ever seen, and she had no idea how to cope with that. What made things worse was that she couldn't get a read on him. She had hoped that his shop would give her some sort of insight into him, but it didn't seem to suit him at all.

Except he liked ships. The nautical display was well-cared for and well-organised in a way nothing else was, and she wondered if maybe that was the only part of the shop he'd made his own since he inherited it from the previous owner.

She reached out to draw her finger along the lines of one of maps, feeling the smoothness of ink on rough parchment, and she wondered if the maps were his too, because they were definitely not printed like the usual maps she bought.

"For you, my lady." She hadn't noticed him reappear, but he was standing near her with a chainsaw in his hand and a soft, interested look in his eye.

"Thanks." she muttered, taking the tool from him and then starting to leave.

She  _needed_ to leave, because there was something about him that made her feel uncomfortable and  _open_  and she didn't like it.

"Have fun." he called after her, and she halted by the door because he sounded  _anxious_  and when she turned back to face him, his head was bowed and he looked disappointed.

"I'll try not to let the mayor know where I got the chainsaw." she offered quietly, and his head rose up quickly and he stared at her. "After all, I don't think you want to get on her bad side too."

He tilted his head, tongue darting out briefly to wet his lips, and then he shrugged. "If Regina wants to yell at me, I'll just blame you." Emma raised both her eyebrows in surprise, not having expected his response, and he chuckled, shaking his head. "No, don't worry, darling. I can handle Regina. Besides, I imagine you're sick of people turning you in for things you didn't do." She blinked at him, walls falling for only a second because  _how could he know_ , and his eyes narrowed, as though he was  _reading_ her. "Archie?" he prompted. "Because Archie already fabricated a story about you?"

"Oh, of course." she said and then hurried out the door before he could say anything else.

She  _needed_ to get away.

~~~*~~~

So maybe Emma had had a bit too much fun destroying Regina's apple tree, but after the day she'd had, she couldn't help but wish she'd cut down the entire thing.

She had to hand it to Regina - the woman was persistent, and powerful enough so that she could be considerably annoying.

Emma had  _not_ enjoyed packing up her room at Granny's, door open so that her every move was watched by the owner. She had  _not_ enjoyed finding her car clamped when she went to dump her stuff in it, because as happy as she was with staying in her car for a few nights, she would rather not be sleeping in it in the middle of the town. And most of all, she had  _not_ enjoyed how Regina's manipulations had led to Henry hearing her call him crazy.

Luckily, she had managed to smooth that over and apologise to her son, but if Regina thought that Emma was going to leave  _now_ , after seeing that Regina was willing to hurt Henry in order to get to others, she was  _so_  very wrong.

She'd taken Henry for dinner, listened to countless theories about who was what fairy tale character, and then she'd dropped him off at his home and retreated back to her home for the night - her car.

Emma hated to admit it, but Regina had at least succeeded in exhausting her. She reclined her seat back, intending to lie back and attempt to  _process_  everything, because a lot had happened in the past two days and she still hadn't had the time to think anything through.

She could see Jones' shop from here, and she lay further back when she saw the silhouette of him and a woman leaving the shop and starting to walk down the street, voices raised in an argument she couldn't make out yet.

"I'll do it in my own time." Jones said angrily, finally close enough for Emma to hear each word. "I don't make a habit of visiting him regularly and I don't intend to. I have a life of my own,  _Your Majesty_." He sounded furious, sarcasm dripping from his words as he addressed her. "I'm not going to spend it doing things on your demand."

"You better not be complaining." Emma tried to lower her seat even further when she realised it was Regina he was talking to. "The only reason I need you to do this is because of the favour I did on  _your_ behalf. Trust me, I hate having to ask you to do this as much as you hate having to do it."

"Oh, I doubt that." Jones said, but he sounded less determined, and Emma peered over the rim of the window to see that he looked deflated, his hand running through his hair. "But fine. I'll go in the morning. Just text me what you want asked and I'll make sure you get the answers you're looking for."

"You better." There was silence for a few moments and Emma debated looking again, seeing if they'd walked away, but then Regina's voice broke the quiet. "Now, Jones, don't think this makes up for you lending Miss Swan that chainsaw. You'll be paying for that for a long time."

"I'm not apologising for that." Jones said, and his laugh was darker than any she had heard from him before. "And I'm not paying for it, either. Storybrooke is  _boring_. I can't regret taking pleasure in whatever entertainment I can find, even if it's at your expense."

Regina huffed, and Emma could hear the clicking of her heels as she strode away. "Use Miss Swan for whatever entertainment you want, Jones, but she  _will_ be leaving Storybrooke." The mayor said loudly, and Emma could hear the pawnbroker's chuckle curiously near to her car. "I'll make sure of that."

Emma listened carefully until she was sure Regina had walked away and then she sat back up, jumping when she heard a rap on her window. It was Jones, a smirk on his face.

"Eavesdropping, Swan?" he asked, and she rolled the car window down. "How criminal of you."

"It's not eavesdropping when you're loudly having an argument in the middle of town." Emma pointed out, but Jones simply chuckled. "If you're arguing because of the chainsaw, then sorry."

"It's not about the chainsaw. It's about the mayor thinking she's royalty and bossing everyone around." he clarified and Emma looked doubtful. She  _had_ heard the end of the argument, after all. "Although, she is quite mad about the chainsaw."

"Well, I'm still sorry. I know you're friends." she told him reluctantly, and he laughed, and this time it was much lighter than when he had been talking to the mayor. "Even if you're happy to find amusement in her apple tree being torn up."

"I'd say friend is a slight over-exaggeration. I'm willing to tolerate her." Jones said, and Emma backed away from the window slightly when he knelt down and rested his chin on the edge of the window. "She's always been slightly more interesting than the other predictable townsfolk. Although, now you're here, I have to say that I'd rather pay attention to you."

Emma rolled her eyes, Regina's words about her being his 'entertainment' running through her mind. "Look, I've already told Graham, but I'm going to tell you too. I'm not here to flirt and I'm  _definitely_ not here to… entertain you."

His smile faltered slightly, and Emma wondered if that truly was what he had expected, for her to fawn over him and let him  _use_ her until she decided to leave. "Humbert's interested?"

His quiet question was a surprise, and Emma wondered if maybe his reaction had been because of her mention of the Sheriff, because when she shrugged in response, he stood back up and stepped away, a look she couldn't even begin to read plastered across his face. "Jones?"

"Apologies for the flirtation, lass." he said quietly, his fingers tapping against the thin glass of the window. "Just, be careful."

She frowned up at him, his words confusing.  _Be careful?_  Of what? He had to know by now that she was more than capable of dealing with Regina, and she couldn't figure out what else he might mean. "Right. Sure. Well, night, Jones. I'm sure we'll cross paths again before I leave this place."

He nodded, still not smiling. "Good night. Make sure to stay warm. That chariot of yours looks as though it could get rather cold." Emma shrugged. She'd slept in her car before. "If you need any help with that-"

"Jones!"

"Hear me out, lass." he stated, and at least he was smiling again, which made Emma feel strangely better. "I was just going to offer you some blankets from the shop."

"That's kind of you." she said quietly, and he looked away, rubbed his finger just behind his ear in an awkward, endearing fidget. "But I've done this before and I can manage. Thanks."

He nodded and strode away, and Emma absently wondered where he was going, pleasantly surprised by his lack of questions after she accidentally revealed that living in her car, like this, wasn't something new.

But after her talk with Jones, she felt strangely awake, and she doubted she'd be sleeping anytime soon. She had found it was better to be completely exhausted before attempting to sleep in the uncomfortable confines of the Bug, and she was well away from that point now.

Maybe she could hunt down Mary-Margaret. After all, she had some bail money she needed to pay back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to HawkEye733 for editing this with me! Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

Henry had asked to meet Emma at his castle and Emma was more than happy to agree. She liked meeting with him, but it was even more appealing given that there was nothing else to do in Storybrooke. In fact, Emma had spent the day by the lake, hoping to walk off the cricks in her back and neck that came from spending a night asleep in the Bug, and trying to understand  _why_ Mary-Margaret had offered her a place to stay.

She had spoken to the teacher only four times, hardly enough to be offered a place to live, and although Mary-Margaret seemed like the kindest person Emma had ever met, people didn't just make offers like that.

Life didn't work like that. Emma was certain that something that seemed too good to be true was exactly that. Something would go wrong, or Emma would mess up, and she'd be back out on the streets living in her car.

It was better to stay in her car for a few days and then go back to Boston, instead of going somewhere comfortable and nice and semi-permanent only to have it all fall apart. And Emma knew, at some point, things were bound to fall apart.

They always did.

"I found your father." Henry said, the instant she sat beside him, opening the book to a photo of a man standing at a window, a cut on his chin. "Prince Charming."

"Henry…" Emma said cautiously, because it was bad enough that he'd decided his  _schoolteacher_ was her mother, but now this?

"He's in the hospital. In a coma." Henry explained, angling the book towards her. "See the scar. He's got one too."

"So?" Emma shrugged, because Henry had to understand that his reasoning wasn't exactly foolproof. "Lots of people have scars."

"In the same place?" Henry insisted. "Don't you see what this means?"

"The same place?" Emma repeated, glancing over her son's shoulder to look at the picture in the book. "So how do you think this John Doe got the scar then?"

Henry sent her an exasperated look, as though she should know the story already. She may have seen the film years and years ago, but she barely remembered Prince Charming even appearing until the end.

She wasn't even sure if he spoke in the film.

"He got it when Snow White hit him with the jewellery box." Henry prompted, but that  _definitely_ didn't trigger any memories from the film. "When else?"

"That's not the story I know." Emma reminded him, and Henry pushed the book in front of her.

"Read it." He ordered. "I'll tell you the plan when you understand exactly what we're dealing with."

It felt strange to read the story with Henry peering over her shoulder, but with him overseeing her, she couldn't just skim the pages.

It was nothing like the stories she had heard, and definitely nothing like the Disney movie. She'd never heard such a version - one where Snow White, on the request of a pirate, sneaks into the palace to find Prince Charming's mother's ring but is caught redhanded by Charming.

Emma wanted to stop there because she didn't like fairy tales or happy endings, because all they did was give people false hope, but Henry wouldn't let her. He said she needed to read more because that was when Princess Leia (or as he insisted,  _Emma_ herself) appeared in the story.

So Emma kept going, reading how Princess Leia was taken into custody by the Evil Queen, leading to Charming and Snow working together, along with Prince Charles, to break into the castle to save her even though she had already saved herself.

She stopped there. "I'll read more later." she promised idly, closing the book and nudging it back across the table to her son. "Really. But right now, kid, I want to know what this means. You have it all figured out, don't you?"

She had to admit that, if Henry had to give her any character from his book, she was glad it was Princess Leia. At least, she seemed tough and didn't need a man to save her, even though she had one willing to do anything for her, not at all like the fairy tales Emma remembered. And maybe, if she was pressed,  _maybe_  Emma would acknowledge that she felt  _something_ when she read Prince Charles' words to Prince Charming, that he would follow her to end of the world or time.

The words were pretty, but they always were in fairy stories.

She didn't need to read anymore to know how the story ended - with true love's kiss and happily ever afters.

Even if Henry insisted that the happy endings had been taken away.

"The curse is keeping them apart. With the coma." Henry explained, holding the book close to his chest. "Now, they're stuck without each other. We  _have_ to tell Miss Blanchard we've found her Prince Charming."

"Okay, kid, telling someone their… soulmate is in a coma probably isn't helpful." she told him, not wanting to point out that telling anyone exactly who their soulmate was was completely ridiculous. She  _knew_ that, had already heard the name Prince Charles enough to know that being told who her soulmate was, as insane as it was, wasn't enough to make her believe it was true. Except maybe Mary-Margaret would believe, because although Emma barely knew her, she knew that the woman was a firm believer in true love. And waking your true love from a coma sounded exactly like the romantic story that Mary-Margaret would love to be part of. "Not having a happy ending is painful enough but giving someone unrealistic hope is far worse."

"But what if I'm right?" Henry asked, unswayed by her words. "We know who they are. Now  _they_ have to know."

"And how do you intend to make that happen?"

"By reminding him." Emma tilted her head and gazed at Henry, wondering what exactly he meant. The man was in a  _coma_ , what did the kid think they could do? "We have to get her to read their story to John Doe, then maybe he'll remember who he is."

She leant towards him, completely ready to tell him that it  _wasn't_ going to work and that he shouldn't get his hopes up, but then she realised if he saw the truth for himself, saw that the fairytales he believed in  _weren't_ true, maybe his fairy tale ideas would stop.

And it would hurt far less than being told he was crazy. The one thing Emma didn't want to do was hurt him, and she felt sure that even playing along could only work for so long.

"Okay." she agreed.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. We'll do it." she promised him. "But we'll do it my way. Let me ask her."

~~~*~~~

Emma had not expected anything to happen, but the instant she saw Mary-Margaret join them at Granny's, a grin on her face, Emma realised things weren't going to be that easy. Henry's idea may have been crazy, but the John Doe had apparently done  _something_ when Mary-Margaret read to him.

Henry and his teacher had run off almost immediately and Emma  _had_ to follow them. Henry had seemed thrilled to see the bustling of nurses and doctors in what Emma assumed was the John Doe's room, but Emma couldn't think of anything other than how it had to be a coincidence.

It couldn't be anything else.

Seeing Graham standing outside the room, Emma frowned slightly, just a few steps too far away from her son to make out exactly what Graham was saying to Henry, his hand outstretched to keep the child from getting close to the room.

"Is he okay?" Mary-Margaret asked as Emma stepped up behind them, and Graham immediately looked from the teacher to Emma.

"He's missing." Graham answered, taking Emma by surprise. Coma patients didn't go missing. Not ones that were still in a coma anyway.

Mary-Margaret had said the man had grabbed hold of her, not  _woken up_.

And when Graham stepped aside to show them the empty hospital bed, Emma felt entirely unsurprised to see the mayor herself standing beside it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Regina asked, striding over to the group. "And  _you_ ," Regina bent down and grabbed Henry's arm, tugging him towards her and refusing to let his arm go even when he tried to pull it back. "I thought you were at the arcade. Now you're  _lying_ to me?"

"What happened to John Doe?" Mary-Margaret asked, and although Emma was thankful that she was drawing attention away from Henry, she had a feeling that it wasn't on purpose.

Mary-Margaret had yet to look away from the empty bed.

"Did someone  _take_ him?" the teacher continued, and Emma had to admit she felt slightly ashamed that she hadn't even considered that. Then again, Henry had talked non-stop on the walk over about how he would wake up with his true love beside him, and maybe she'd been too focussed on that to consider the more realistic option.

"We don't know yet." Graham admitted with a shrug. "His IVs are ripped out but there's no sign for sure that there was a struggle."

"What did you do?" Henry asked his mother, and Emma was relieved to see that Regina was no longer gripping Henry's arm and seemed instead to be focussed on the silk shirt Emma was wearing.

"You think I had something to do with this?" Regina asked.

"It is curious that the mayor is here." Emma pointed out, arms crossed over her chest.

Regina replied, but Emma wasn't really listening. Killian Jones had just wandered around the corner, coming from somewhere further inside the hospital, and Emma felt strangely intrigued about what he was doing there.

The doctor had joined them, talking to Regina and Mary-Margaret, but Emma had completely stopped paying attention. Jones had seen her, she knew that by the way he lit up with a wide grin spreading across his face, and he hurried over to stand at her side.

"Seriously?" she asked him quietly, not wanting to interrupt the doctor. "You're here too?"

"I'm simply here to visit an old acquaintance." He explained, and he shot an unreadable look to Regina. "How about you, Swan? What's all this clamour about?"

She didn't answer him, because the doctor was saying something about how John Doe was in danger, and she didn't want to waste time chatting if they had time constraints they needed to stick to. "Let's quit yapping and start looking." she said, determinedly ignoring how Jones was on his tiptoes trying to look past the doctor and see what was going on.

"You're the one who was… yapping, Miss Swan." Regina said dryly, looking derisively between Emma and Jones. "Just stay out of this. And since I  _clearly_ can't keep you away from my son, I guess I'm just going to have to keep my son away from you." The mayor took Henry's hand and began to lead him away, stopping when she reached Emma's side. "Enjoy my shirt, because it's all you're getting."

And with an order to Graham to find John Doe, Regina and Henry left.

There was silence for a few minutes, no one knowing how to respond to Regina's words.

"Well, Swan,  _I_ am thoroughly enjoying the shirt." he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Graham and Mary-Margaret looked taken aback but Emma just sighed, pretending she hadn't heard the Doctor's snigger and mumble of agreement.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she asked, slightly irritated, but Jones shook his head.

_Of course_  he had nowhere else to be.

Graham quickly shook off his shock from the pawnbroker's comment and leapt into action. Emma suggested they check the security tapes - if this technologically-stilted town even had any - and Graham was soon leading the group through to the security guard's office.

Killian Jones insisted on coming along.

The guards seemed pretty useless. She recognised Leroy from her first day, and he was as irritable as he had been then, and the other guard, Walter, seemed likely to fall asleep at any moment. Graham questioned the guards but Emma was more interested in the footage.

Or more accurately, the footage of the poorly-decorated ward that Henry had visited in order to decorate.

"Hold on." she said, interrupting whatever it was Graham was saying. "We're looking at the wrong tape. This is the ward where Henry's class put up decorations. If this was really the tape from last night, we'd see the banners the kids hung."

Jones sighed loudly. "It appears that Sleepy here has been living up to his name." he drawled, and although the guard protested, Emma had to agree with the pawnbroker. "I'd guess that he didn't want anyone to figure out his transgression and so played us the wrong tape."

"At least I don't drink on the job." Walter said, sending a pointed look at Leroy, and Emma did not want to be dealing with this. She sighed, rubbing her eyes with her hand.

"Gentlemen, enough!" Graham ordered, and Emma smiled in relief when the guards actually fell silent. "Where's the real tape?"

They waited in silence for a few minutes while Walter rummaged around his desk, pulling out a VHS with a quiet cheer of success. Emma grabbed it and slid it into the player, feeling as though she was back in the nineties, and then watched the screen.

And it looked like John Doe had wandered out by himself.

After a few more minutes of discussion, they decided to head into the woods after him. Mary-Margaret insisted on helping, so it soon became clear that two groups of two would cover more ground. Although Emma would prefer to be paired with the teacher, it was decided that Graham would accompany Mary-Margaret and,  _of course_ , Emma would be exploring the woods with a certain Killian Jones.

Apparently he knew the area well enough to make up for Emma's lack of knowledge and that was enough to persuade both Graham and Mary-Margaret that he should remain at Emma's side instead of accompanying either of them.

Although Graham and Emma exchanged numbers, wanting to make sure they could contact the other when they found John Doe, it seemed unlikely that Emma would get any signal in the woods so Mary-Margaret and Jones waited by the door as Emma accompanied Graham to the squad car to pick up a walkie-talkie.

"We could all search together." Graham suggested as he tried to find the spare walkie-talkie in the boot of the car. "If you'd prefer that."

"No, it's fine." Emma said quietly, her fingers brushing against Graham's hand when she took the device. "We don't have a lot of time and there's enough of us to split into two groups. And besides, Mary-Margaret isn't used to finding people, not like the two of us, so it's best for her to go with you."

"If you're sure." Graham said reluctantly, leading Emma back into the hospital.

"Sounds like you want to keep working with me." Emma muttered teasingly, smiling at Graham when he turned to her with raised eyebrows. "Worried you won't be able to find John Doe without me?"

"I'm pretty sure I'll find him. Tracking is what I'm good at." Graham told her, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. "But don't worry. I know you prefer clever computer tricks and things like that, so I won't brag too much when I get to him first."

Emma chuckled. "We'll see."

"I thought we needed to hurry." Emma hadn't realised they'd reached the door already, and she raised an unimpressed eyebrow when she heard the irritation in Jones' voice. "But if you and the Sheriff would rather keep flirting, I'm sure we can wait."

Emma rolled her eyes and strode away from Graham, flinging the door open and stepping out into the dark woods.

~~~*~~~

Jones had been unusually quiet as he led Emma into the woods. He stayed a step or two ahead of her at all times, examining the ground as he attempted to look for any signs that John Doe had travelled this way.

In fact, other than a few comments in the hospital, he'd been quiet all day.

She didn't know what made her do it, but she reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving away from her. "Jones?" she asked, dropping his arm the second he turned around to face her. "Are you alright?"

Jones tilted his head and gazed at her, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips, before he shrugged. "I'm fine. We shouldn't be stopping."

"We're not even going the right way anyway." she pointed out, and Jones' jaw clenched. "I know you haven't found anything that even suggests John Doe came this way. We can stop for a few minutes."

"Are you worried about me, love?" he asked, taking a step closer and glancing down at her lips and Emma  _knew_ what he was doing. He was trying to distract her, hoping his proximity would be off-putting enough for her to change the subject. She did it herself, when men asked her about her past or about how she was  _feeling_. "Do you  _care_?"

Emma maintained her ground, even though he was now only centimetres away, and kept her eyes locked with his. "Something is bothering you." she stated with certainty, feeling a small burst of triumph when he glanced away and clenched his jaw. "You're not very good at hiding it."

He exhaled heavily, inching even closer and reaching his hand out to toy with the zipper of her leather jacket. As if  _that_ would be enough to dissuade her.

For some reason, and she didn't know what that reason was, she wanted to make sure he was alright.

"Is it your friend?" she asked, her words enough to make him step away, his hand dropping to his side. "Are they alright?"

"My friend?" he repeated, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"Family, then?"

"I don't have any family." His jaw clenched again and his eyes flashed, and he took another step away from her. Emma looked curiously at him, wanting to know more but also knowing not to ask. "I don't know what you think is wrong with me, Swan, but really, I'm fine. Now, shall we drop this matter and resume our search? We wouldn't want poor John Doe to die because of your need to comfort me."

"Well, we can talk and walk then." Emma said, continuing into the woods and suppressing a smile when Jones kept up with her, his pace in time with hers. "You don't need to tell me anything serious. I just want to know you're feeling alright."

"I'm fine." he repeated. They walked in silence for a few more minutes and then Emma heard Jones sigh. "Look, the man I was visiting, I visit out of obligation. I don't enjoy it and seeing him, well, it doesn't put me in a good mood. There's nothing wrong. I've simply had a bad afternoon."

"Obligation?"

"There's no one else who can visit." Jones explained. "So I have to go at least two times a week to ensure nothing's changed. Although, I've been everyday since you arrived."

"Since I got here?" Emma asked. "Why?"

"Things have been changing." He stated as though it was obvious, and Emma faltered slightly. He'd said that a lot since they'd met, the same way Henry had, and the way he said it made her wonder if he thought the changes were  _because_ of her. "I've needed to make sure not  _everything_ is different."

"And how is he?"

"There's been no improvement." Jones said, sounding unbothered by his acquaintance's condition,  _whatever_ it was. "Now how about we talk about you?" Emma tensed, expecting some sort of personal question that she was going to have to refuse to answer, but Jones simply gestured at the silk shirt. "I expect there's a reason behind that that makes more sense than the idea of you and Regina sharing clothes?"

"I spilt some coffee and Henry gave me this to wear instead." she answered quickly. "Sorry if you were hoping for a more exciting story."

"No. That story's enough." He grinned and reached out to run his finger along the silk collar. "Are you clumsy, Swan?

"No." she responded, but then she immediately fell over a stray tree root. She grunted when she hit the ground, remembering that her and woods did  _not_ mix. Expecting to hear a laugh from Jones, especially after their conversation, she got to her knees with a grumble.

"You alright?" Jones asked, and Emma looked up to see him standing directly in front of her, his hand outstretched. "The path gets rather uneven here. I should have warned you."

She ignored his hand and stood up, brushing mud away from her jeans and her jacket. "I'm fine. Thanks."

He looked her up and down and then he chuckled, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Oh, you're a tough lass." he told her with a chuckle.

"What are you doing?" she breathed.

"You had some dirt on your cheek." he explained, his smile widening. He moved his hand away, Emma sighing in relief, and pointed at her stomach, "That shirt's probably stained though."

"Doesn't matter." she told him. "It's Regina's."

Jones blinked and then he laughed, a deep, rich laugh that made him look so happy that for a second, Emma couldn't look away from him.

He needed to laugh more.

And Emma needed to say something, because she didn't like that thought. She shouldn't have even  _had_ that thought. Then she heard a buzz from the walkie-talkie, and she grasped for it. "Yes?" she said, holding up a hand for Jones to stop laughing. "You found him?"

"No." It was Mary-Margaret's voice, and Emma wondered why she was calling if they still hadn't found him. "But Henry's found us."

"Henry?" Emma repeated. There was a buzz of confirmation from Mary-Margaret and then Jones reached out and took the walkie-talkie out of Emma's hand.

"Where are you?" he asked, his grin hidden by the device. "We'll meet you there."

Apparently they were near the Toll Bridge, which Jones knew the way to. With the discussion over, Jones clipped the walkie-talkie back to her belt - and he may have been quieter than usual but he was definitely more touchy too.

Emma didn't want to encourage him further but she didn't want to step away either.

Jones made her feel unusually comfortable and she  _hated_ it.

"Come on, then, Jones." she ordered. "Lead me to Henry."

This time, it was Emma making sure there was distance between them, staying a few steps behind as he led her through the woods and she tried to pretend that she didn't feel anything every time he pointed out a stray root or branch.

~~~*~~~

Emma still couldn't believe what had happened. John Doe had  _actually_ woken up after Mary-Margaret's kiss - and it was a kiss, because it looked like no CPR Emma had ever seen. And the way he had  _looked_ at her!

It could only be because she had saved him.

They had all accompanied him back to the hospital, all except Jones anyway, who had left without a word the minute that John Doe coughed and woke up.

And as they watched the doctors check he was alright, a woman ran past and called out a name - David - and went straight to his bedside.

"Who is that?" Mary-Margaret breathed, and Emma shrugged.

"His wife." It was Regina's voice, and Emma turned to see the mayor standing just behind them, Jones at her side.

Emma couldn't stand the look on Mary-Margaret's face, because seeing someone visibly lose hope was  _painful_ , so she walked away. Henry followed her, the two of them sitting in the nearby waiting lounge.

"He's called David Nolan." Jones had apparently gone after them, taking the chair beside Emma. "She's Kathryn. His wife."

"And what, you found her  _today_?" Emma asked, glancing over at Mary-Margaret to see that she was now talking with Regina and Kathryn. "Didn't she ever visit him before?"

"She didn't know he was here." Jones explained. "Unfortunately, I'm not aware of the entire tale, but I gathered it involved a fight and a separation that meant she didn't know he was still in town. I did glean that Kathryn had long forgiven him for whatever tore them apart and she was devastated to hear of the state he's been in for the past… well, it feels like decades."

"How did you find her then?" Emma questioned, suspicious about the woman's arrival, especially as she had been accompanied by Regina Mills. "Because you have to admit that her showing up  _now_ has to be more than a coincidence. Wasn't he in the news or somewhere she could have heard about him before today?"

"What answer would make sense?" Jones replied, and that  _wasn't_  an answer. That seemed more like an admittance that he didn't have an explanation. "How about Regina examined the old security tapes and heard David Nolan saying Kathryn's name? I know almost everyone in this place, so I went and found her. On the mayor's request, of course."

"Am I supposed to believe that?"

"Believe what you want, Swan. Kathryn isn't lying."

"But you are." she pointed out and Jones met her gaze, and she was surprised at how  _closed off_ his gaze was, so different to how he had looked at her in the woods. "Why? Why did you find her  _now_?"

Jones sighed and stood up, his hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up at him and swallowed, because his stare was too intense, too  _much_. "Look, Swan, I don't have an answer for you. Nothing other than that sometimes, there isn't a happy ending."

"I know that." she hissed, irritated by his words but not wanting Henry to hear her response. "I'm well aware that happy endings aren't real. I have  _more_ than enough experience with that. But this… something isn't right about this."

"Sorry, love." His thumb rubbed her shoulder gently, just once, and then he pulled his hand back and walked away.

Emma wanted more of an answer, wanted to follow him and demand that he  _stop lying,_ but then she saw the doctor finally leaving David's room, so instead Emma stood and hurried over to join Mary-Margaret.

"Well, it's something of a miracle." The doctor told them.

"He's okay?" Kathryn asked.

The doctor nodded and then glanced at the group of people that were all interested in hearing how the patient was. "Physically, he's on the mend. His memory is another issue. It may take time, if it returns at all."

"What brought him back?" Mary-Margaret was breathless, and Emma could see hope rising again in her eyes, even though Emma didn't know how that was possible. Not when his wife was standing right there.

"There's no explanation. Something just clicked in him."

"He just got up and decided to go for a stroll?" Emma said, because there  _had_ to be more to his waking than that. It was strange enough that he'd woken up at all, but she couldn't believe the doctor was standing there and telling them he had no idea why. She didn't want him to be saying such things, not when Henry was at her side and looking as if everything he believed in was being confirmed right in front of his eyes.

"He woke up and he was delirious and his first instinct was to go… find something, I guess."

"Someone." Henry piped up, everyone turning to look at him. Luckily he didn't say anything more. Instead he remained quiet and slightly sullen looking when Kathryn returned to her husband's bedside.

There was silence for a few minutes and then Regina exhaled loudly, drawing everyone's attention to her. "Well, after such a touching reunion I feel in quite the forgiving mood." she said loudly, and Emma raised an eyebrow. She doubted the mayor was  _ever_ in a forgiving mood. "We'll talk about your insubordination at home, Henry. Do you know what insubordination means?" Henry shrugged, but crossed the room to his mother's side. "It means you're grounded."

Regina began to leave, but Henry didn't follow her, calling after her to say he needed to get his backpack. Emma sighed, head in her hands when she heard the kid trying to cheer up Mary-Margaret, telling the teacher that David  _was_ looking for her. Even though Mary-Margaret tried to persuade him otherwise, he insisted it was because they  _belonged_ together.

And Emma did not like the look that appeared in Mary-Margaret's eyes.

She wanted to ask Regina  _what_ had made her look at the security tapes and seek out Kathryn, because Emma had seen triumph appear briefly on the mayor's face. And she  _knew_ Jones had lied to her, had sensed something off in his words, and she had the feeling that Regina was behind it all.

Leaving Mary-Margaret, she strode through the hospital corridors until she turned a corner and saw Regina and Henry. She was going to approach them, but then Regina ordered Henry to wait in the car and Emma saw Killian Jones waiting at the reception, waiting for  _Regina_.

She hid around the corner, close enough to hear the talking but hopefully out of their sight.

"Happy now?" Jones asked dryly, examining his nails instead of looking at Regina. "She looked miserable enough to me and I know how much you enjoy misery."

"Not quite." Regina answered and Emma noticed that her hands were clenched in tight fists, and she looked  _furious_. "He was never even supposed to wake up."

"And the clock-tower was never meant to work." Jones said with a shrug, a smirk spreading across his face when Regina huffed. "You may need to consider accepting the idea that things won't always go your way. It will makes things easier for you when it all falls apart."

"He talked today, didn't he?" Regina said quietly, and Emma hadn't expected that response, didn't  _understand_ that response. "What did he say?"

Jones leant in close to Regina, and his voice was low enough that Emma had to shuffle closer to hear it. Luckily, they were so preoccupied with each other that Emma felt secure enough to lean out slightly from behind the corner, and so she took a couple of small steps nearer to them. "He said that you already know the answer to your question." he hissed, and Regina paled. "He said that you know exactly who she is."

Regina tensed and then she raised a hand to shove the pawnbroker away, Jones crashing into the reception desk. " _Fix this_." she hissed. "I don't care what you have to do, but get this sorted out."

Jones righted himself and then shrugged, appearing  _amused_ by Regina's tantrum. "How would you suggest I do that, my dear?"

"Find a way." she ordered, striding past him and leaving the pawnbroker in the hospital, bemusement written all over his face.

Emma darted back around the corner before he could see her. She didn't want him to know she'd been eavesdropping, even if the conversation had made no sense, and so she turned on her heel and headed back to Mary-Margaret.

~~~*~~~

Emma had thought Storybrooke couldn't get any stranger, but today had proved her wrong. She was reclining in the front seat of the Bug, a takeaway hot cocoa in her hand, and was trying to think through everything that had happened.

Her plan had backfired rather spectacularly. She had hoped that Mary-Margaret would be unsuccessful - how could she even expect anything else? - but David Nolan's surprising recovery was bound to only increase Henry's belief in the curse.

She was meant to leave in a couple of days, but she didn't know if she could.

Not when she was only growing more and more wary of what Regina Mills was capable of and what she was willing to do.

Emma wasn't sure Regina wouldn't hurt Henry if it meant that she would get what she wanted, whatever that was.

She'd done it before.

But if she was going to stay, she couldn't live in her car forever.

She exhaled and rested her head against the seat, closing her eyes and debating taking Mary-Margaret's offer. The woman was kind to make such an offer, and it wasn't permanent - not completely. She'd still have no apartment to her name, would still be able to leave whenever she wanted, so it wasn't as though she was making a commitment.

She didn't think of any more pros or cons because there was a rap on the window, and Emma knew who it was before she even opened her eyes.

Killian Jones had lied to her, was somehow involved with the mayor and apparently very determined to not leave her alone. And yet, she still grasped for the winder and lowered the window.

"If you insist on sleeping in this yellow monstrosity, at least keep warm." he said, and he sounded concerned. "I'm getting cold simply looking at you."

She still didn't open her eyes, because she didn't want to see if he  _looked_ like he cared because she couldn't deal with that. "Didn't we already have this conversation?"

"Darling, when I leave the shop, I see you and I can't help but worry." he murmured, and then Emma felt something soft hit her and she jolted up, opening her eyes to glare at him. "I thought I'd bring you those blankets I mentioned."

She swallowed, burying her hands in the thick, warm fabric and wishing she could wrap herself up in them but not wanting to when Jones was there and looking at her as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Are you always going to coddle me like this?" she asked, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't need help and I don't need  _these_."

Jones shrugged. "Fine."

"Good."

"I wasn't here only for the blankets." Jones said slowly, and Emma finally looked at him. He smiled at her fondly and Emma blinked, unable to move her gaze away."I was wondering if you wanted to join me at the Rabbit Hole for a couple of drinks. Lacey, Sidney and I plan to celebrate the awakening of our long-slumbering John Doe with some rum and some snooker, and I'm sure the evening would be even more enjoyable if you were there too."

"With Sidney?" Emma repeated, panicking slightly when she realised she  _wanted_ to go. Jones looked so eager for her to join him, and there was something about him that she liked. But she didn't  _want_ to like him, not when she was already certain she couldn't trust him and she was glad that there was something she could use as a reason not to go. "I'm not a fan of Sidney Glass, so drinking with him isn't something I plan on doing. Ever."

Jones looked slightly disappointed, and Emma glanced away, because if she met his gaze she would want to say yes. "Alright."

And he couldn't  _care_ that she'd said no, but it looked like he did, and she didn't have time for that. Sighing, she roughly bundled the blankets together and shoved them back through the window, ignoring how he scrambled to take hold of them. "Look. I have a place and I don't need the blankets so just take them back. Don't worry, you won't have to see me and worry about feeling cold."

"You're staying then?" he asked once he had the blankets folded under his arm.

Emma gaped at him, only just realising what she'd told him and what she'd actually decided. "I guess I am." she muttered quietly, and then reached for the window crank again. "So I'll see you around. Have fun with your rum."

"I'll try." He responded quietly, but Emma was already closing the window.

She  _couldn't_ deal with Killian Jones.

Emma pressed a few buttons on her phone as she waited for Killian Jones to walk away, glancing up from the screen occasionally to see him locking up the pawnbrokers and ambling back down Main Street, his head bowed slightly as if he was actually bothered by her refusal.

She didn't do  _drinks_. Not with men who made her feel the way Killian Jones did. Letting someone in,  _trusting_ someone, always ended in betrayal and disappointment. It was easier when she didn't feel, because then she couldn't get hurt.

Without thinking, she sent a quick text to Graham, inviting him out for drinks with her and Mary-Margaret. He was kind and funny and attractive, but she could  _cope_ with him, and as much as she hated to admit it, after a day full of stories of true love and soulmates, she didn't want to be lonely.

She'd talk to Mary-Margaret, thank her for the offer, and then she'd go out and she'd have some rum with her new friend and the cute sheriff.

And she was not going to think about Killian Jones.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to HawkEye733 for editing! I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 4**

Emma felt absurdly proud of herself when she hauled her two cardboard boxes of stuff from the Storybrooke Post Office up to Mary-Margaret's apartment. She'd been irritable all day, ever since she'd stopped at Granny's for a hot cocoa and the morning paper and Regina had come up to her and told her that she knew Emma wouldn't stay.

That she knew  _exactly_ who Emma was, and that was someone who picked up and left whenever things got difficult or too easy.

Emma hated being told who she was and what she could or couldn't do, and with the two boxes settled inside the apartment, she felt like she was taking a step towards showing Regina how wrong she was. And, yeah, it was scary, because she knew now that she couldn't leave Henry, couldn't leave Storybrooke, and she'd never felt so stuck before.

But she wanted to show everyone that she could do it.

Emma began sorting through her things immediately, wanting them packed away in cupboards and drawers and wardrobes so it was obvious that she was staying and this apartment was her  _home_ now.

She piled leather jackets onto one of the couches, placed her baby blanket carefully on the top of the stack of clothes, grinned in relief when she found her laptop, and then pried open another box.

"I'm so glad my stuff is here." she sighed, catching sight of the small brown box where she kept everything important and then taking the offered breakfast from Mary-Margaret with a quick thank you.

"So that's all your stuff?" Mary-Margaret asked.

"What do you mean?" Emma questioned, digging out the small box from the bottom of the crate and tracing the gold-coloured edging carefully, fondly.

Emma wanted to open and make sure everything was still there - her glasses, her plastic ring, her old photos and newspaper clippings - but Mary-Margaret was still home, enjoying her weekend off work, and Emma didn't want to have to answer any questions or recite any stories.

"Is the rest in storage?" The teacher clarified.

Emma hated that question, because whenever she answered it truthfully - that a lot of stuff made it harder to move away - she would always receive judgemental looks and further questions. She glanced away, rubbing her hands nervously along the sides of the box. "No, this is all of it. I'm not sentimental."

It was lucky Mary-Margaret wasn't good at spotting lies.

"Well, it must make things easier when you have to move." Her friend offered and Emma stilled, because that was it. That was the comment she hated, the  _truth_ she hated, and today, after Regina, she didn't want that to be what people said about her.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief when her phone began to ring, saving her from having to reply. Graham's name was on the screen, so she sent Mary-Margaret a falsely apologetic smile and answered the phone, the teacher taking a seat at the table and starting on her breakfast.

"Morning, Sheriff." Emma greeted, rolling her eyes when she saw Mary-Margaret's excited grin. "How are you this morning? I remember someone drinking rather a lot of whiskey last night?"

This time, the grin she sent to Mary-Margaret wasn't at all false. Their Friday night had been spent chatting and drinking at Granny's, and the Sheriff had joined them near to closing time and ordered an almost obscene amount of whiskey.

Emma knew not to ask when someone seemed that eager to lose themselves, although she had eventually insisted he go home.

"Could be better." He answered with a wry laugh. "But I'm still at the station and working. Which is actually why I'm calling you. We've got a missing person report and I figured you could lend a hand."

"I thought you said there wasn't a lot around here for me to do." Emma pointed out with a laugh, remembering how he'd tried to convince her to take a job only a day before. "And yet here you are, asking for my help."

"Perhaps I'll admit I was wrong when you join me at the station with a coffee?"

Emma sighed, but couldn't stop a smile, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder as she closed up the cardboard boxes and prepared to head out. "Alright then. I'll see you there."

"Oh, and Emma?" He said quickly, before she could hang up. "You'll be paid for your time, of course."

He dropped the call and Emma shrugged a leather jacket on, ignoring Mary-Margaret's questions on Graham, and why he had called and if she thought he was handsome.

She  _may_  have nodded in response to the latter.

~~~*~~~

Emma hadn't managed to get to the Sheriff's Station before Henry found her, and although she wasn't going to complain about spending time with him, it was not the best time for him to be at her side.

She didn't know what  _exactly_ Graham needed, but she doubted any criminal case was something she should let her son get involved in. But he refused to leave, and she couldn't keep the Sheriff waiting while she tried to evade a ten-year old.

So she'd picked up a coffee for Graham along with hot cocoas for her and Henry, and they'd wandered down to the Station. By the time they got there, she was occupied with trying to think of a fairy-tale character that Graham could be, because Henry couldn't think of one.

Well, she was occupied with that until she saw Killian Jones sitting at the Sheriff's desk, a bright red gash on his forehead, and tapping his fingers anxiously against a glass of water.

Promising Henry she'd spend time with him as soon as she knew what was going on, she left him sitting in the corridor and strode into the small office.

"Why am I not surprised that you're here?" she asked, and Jones grinned at her. "And where's Graham?"

"Looking for a bandage for my head." he answered, waving his fake hand at Henry. "And I must say, took you a while to get here."

"Let me guess. You're the one reporting the missing person?" she sighed, but he didn't answer because Graham had joined them in the room.

"Yes." Graham responded, passing the pawnbroker a band-aid and then taking a seat behind the desk and levelling a look at the two of them. "And also a robbery."

"I told you, mate, I'm not pressing any charges." Jones sounded exasperated, as though he'd already reminded the Sheriff several times. "It was merely a misunderstanding and there's no need to concern yourself with it."

"And what? You want me to track down the stolen object?" she asked teasingly, trying not to be distracted by Jones' failing attempts at peeling off the back of the band-aid. "Is it too much for you, Sheriff?"

"That's not it." Graham said, but a smile was dancing on his lips. "Perhaps I felt bad that there are no cyber criminals around for you to catch and thought I would let you feel involved?"

Emma would have responded, and was already preparing to lean her hip against the desk and smirk down at the Sheriff but then Jones huffed loudly and dropped the unopened band-aid to the desk. "I don't care about the stolen object. I don't even know what she took." The shopkeeper said, frustration clear in his voice. "She can keep it. But Ashley clearly thinks that's not the case. She's out there, alone and with child, and we need to get to her before anything happens. That's why I'm here, not to report some petty theft."

"And assault." Emma reminded him, but he was right. They shouldn't be wasting time. But the thought didn't stop her from taking the band-aid and gently applying it to the cut on his face, his brilliant blue eyes locked on her. "Don't forget assault. That wound's nasty."

"I've had worse." he said, his tone low and  _appealing_ , and then he nudged her with his prosthetic. She glanced down at it and chuckled slightly, his own smile widening at her response. "I can deal with a small cut."

And then Graham cleared his throat. "I guess I'll go from door to door and ask if anyone's seen her." he said, and the playful grin from before had vanished. "You can search… well, however you would usually find someone. We'll call you, Mr Jones, if we find anything."

That was a clear enough dismissal, and Jones stood from the seat and bowed his head towards her in goodbye, the band-aid obvious against his skin.

God, she'd stood in front of Graham and tended to the shopkeeper's wound as though she actually  _cared_ for him.

_What was she doing?_

"Any idea where we might find her?" Emma asked, taking Jones' seat and leaning on the desk. "Or where I should start? I don't exactly know the town."

"Try Granny's first." Graham said, rustling with paperwork and pulling the phone closer, appearing unwilling to keep talking. "And if you can, find out what was stolen. I find it suspicious that Mr Jones was here to only report her missing, especially since she hurt him. He wouldn't even tell me what she took."

"He said he didn't know." Emma corrected, and she remembered no sign of a lie in the man's voice. "I'm pretty sure he was being sincere."

Graham raised an eyebrow and Emma faltered slightly. "You don't think it's strange? That he doesn't know what was taken from his shop? Surely he has an inventory or something. What doesn't he want us to know about?"

"I think he doesn't know." Emma insisted, because she hadn't felt a single thing wrong with his statements and she  _knew_ what she felt when Killian Jones lied to her. "Now I'm going to head to Granny's. Let me know if you hear anything further about Ashley."

"We need to discuss payment." Graham said once she had stood up. "Finding people is your job, right?"

"No payment necessary." she told him, because she  _wanted_ to find Ashley and she didn't need any money for that. "See you later."

Graham nodded at her, already starting to press the keys on the phone, and then Emma left the office, Henry joining her with a wide grin and an abundance of questions.

~~~*~~~

Ruby had been helpful, directing Emma and Henry towards Ashley's ex-boyfriend. Sean Herman lived with his father in a large house, only a few streets away from the vast house that Henry called home.

At least she had convinced Henry to stay in the car. She didn't want him to hear any sort of confrontation that could introduce him to the ugliness of relationships or anything about Sean  _not wanting_ his child.

The door opened pretty soon after she knocked, and from the look of the boy standing before her, Emma guessed that it was Ashley's ex-boyfriend she was talking to. This was confirmed when she asked for his name, and Emma found herself pleasantly surprised when she mentioned Ashley and saw concern flit across his face.

"My son doesn't have anything to do with that girl anymore." Emma spun round when she heard the new voice, raising an eyebrow when she saw what had to be Sean's father climbing the porch steps. "Whatever trouble she's in, I am sorry for, but there is nothing we can do to help you."

"You're the reason he broke up with her." she stated, and Sean glanced down at the ground. She didn't need to hear confirmation from his father, but anger filled her when she saw how unapologetic Mr Herman was.

"Absolutely." he confirmed. "I'm not going to let my son throw his entire life away over a mistake."

"So you just told him to leave her?"

"Well, what are they going to do? Raise the child in the backseat of a car?"

Emma blinked at him, furious. "Some people only  _have_ the backseat of a car."

"Well, they're to be pitied." He said, stepping to stand beside his son. Emma huffed, because if she had chosen to raise Henry, that's exactly what she would have been doing. And yes, maybe that was one of the many reasons she decided he would be better off without her, but that was her choice. This time, it was Ashley and Sean's choice. "I'm not letting that happen to my son."

Mr Herman kept walking, as if dismissing her, but Sean stayed in the doorway. "Dad, maybe we should help her look."

"It's a waste, Sean."

Sean swallowed and Emma  _knew_ he cared, wanted to help, but with his father there, perhaps he wouldn't leave. "Sean, if you want to come, come." she insisted, leaning in so that maybe Mr Herman wouldn't hear. "Stop letting other people make decisions for you. If Ashley runs away with this baby, she's going to be in some serious trouble."

Sean started, tilting his head as he looked at her. "She's running away  _with_ the baby?"

"Yes." Emma breathed, and Sean just gazed at her, didn't move or say anything else.

"Sean, inside." Mr Herman said, appearing at his son's shoulder and glancing between him and Emma. "Now." Sean obeyed his father's command, moving back into his house with only one last glance at Emma. "Look, believe me, if I knew where she was, I would tell you. I went to a lot of trouble to get her this deal."

"Deal?" Emma asked, irritated by the way Sean had simply slumped inside, had allowed his father to order him about it. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't know?" Mr Herman said doubtfully and Emma shrugged. "Ashley agreed to give up the child, and she's being paid very well to do so."

"She  _sold_ the baby?" Emma questioned, her voice quiet.

"Oh, you make it sound so crass." Mr Herman rebuffed her. "I found someone who's going to find that child a good and proper home?"

"And who are  _you_ to judge whether or not Ashley is capable of providing that?"

"Look at her. She's a teenager and she's never shown any evidence of being responsible. How could she possibly know how to be a mother?"

Emma  _hated_ Mr Herman.

Whatever he thought of Ashley, that gave him no right to pressure her into such a choice or to gossip about such things. He didn't know the girl. Emma didn't know her either, not well, but she knew what it was like to be told what you could and couldn't do.

And how could  _anyone_ know how to be a mother until they  _were_ one?

"Maybe she's changing her life." Emma protested, but Mr Herman only rolled his eyes.

"Everybody says that." He scoffed and Emma inhaled sharply. People  _could_ change. She  _and_ Ashley were going to show people that no matter what people like Mr Herman and Regina said, they were  _wrong_. "Now, look, I've found someone who's going to pay Ashley extremely well. Someone who's going to make sure everyone's happy."

Then it hit her. Ashley was running because she wanted to  _keep_ her child, but she'd stopped at Jones' shop first. She'd broken in and stolen something from the pawnbroker's shop.

And Emma knew  _exactly_ what she'd taken.

Mr Herman slammed the door in her face but Emma didn't even notice. Ashley Boyd had run away because she wanted to keep her child, because Mr Herman had made a deal that would mean she gave up the child in exchange for money. And he'd made that deal with Killian Jones.

She'd stood in front of Graham and insisted Jones knew nothing, implied that he really was just concerned with Ashley's well-being.

Emma had let herself be fooled by Jones' good looks and wide grin when in reality he was just as big a liar as everyone else.

And she couldn't figure out why she hadn't realised, why she'd been so convinced. He'd lied to her before and she'd known, but when he was there, sitting in the Sheriff's office, she had fully believed in what he was saying.

She'd been lied to before, been  _fooled_ before - she remembered the man with the body parts in his freezer  _very_ vividly - but it had been a while since it  _hurt_ the way this did.

She stayed on the porch for a few minutes, her fists clenched tightly at her side, and she wished she didn't feel so upset about finding out Killian Jones' true colours. She  _shouldn't_ be upset. She'd only known him ten or so days, and in that time she'd already figured out that he was up to  _something_. His friendship with Regina and their incomprehensible conversations had made certain of that.

She was going to find Ashley Boyd, and then she was going to ensure that Killian Jones wasn't getting his hands on that baby. Not if Ashley wanted to keep the child with her. That was a choice she should be free to make and a  _pawnbroker_ couldn't take that from her.

~~~*~~~

Emma and Henry had managed to find Ashley, her car crashed beside the Storybrooke sign, already in labour. Emma had helped her into the passenger seat and then quickly loaded the girl's suitcase into the boot of the car.

And before they hurried to the hospital, Emma searched the car and found a rolled up scroll stuffed underneath the passenger seat.

Luckily, everything had worked out. Ashley had reached the hospital with more than enough time, and Sean had shown up soon after Emma promised that she wouldn't let anyone take away the young girl's baby.

As they waited to hear how she was doing, Emma opened up the scroll and scanned through it. The language was complicated, and it was long and detailed, but it was  _definitely_ a contract for Ashley to give away her baby.

Emma crumpled it up in her fist, and called Graham.

Graham had asked too many questions, so she'd hung up as soon as he mentioned that Jones lived on the water. She kept the folded contract crumpled in her fist, even as she drove through Storybrooke.

She dropped Henry off at his home, keeping determinedly silent over what she was going to have to do, what her 'Prince Charles' was involved in. Henry had refused to leave the Bug at first, but when she'd almost begged him to stay home, he appeared to have recognised something in her voice and he'd left the vehicle with a small goodbye.

Emma had expected a small houseboat, but when she pulled up by the sea, she knew instantly that Jones lived in the huge old ship that was in the docks. For a few moments, she stared up at it with wide eyes.

She remembered seeing it before, when she looked across the bay with Henry, but she had never figured someone lived in it.

It was magnificent, bright and polished with railings the same colour as her Bug, and Emma found herself slowly crossing the gang-plank onto the ship and glancing around, trying to take in every aspect of the vessel.

She could understand  _why_ he'd chosen to live on the ship, and Emma could definitely see the appeal. And for a second, she wanted to know  _exactly_ why he had chosen such a home, but then she remembered the contract in her hand and remembered she didn't want to know him.

Emma had decided days earlier that she didn't want to think about him anymore, but now she didn't even want to see him.

But she couldn't let him get away with  _using_ her and Graham the way he had.

Emma stomped her way across the wooden deck and rapped angrily on the door that appeared to lead down to what she assumed was the living quarters.

Jones opened the door and that same familiar grin that he  _always_ wore when he saw her spread across his face. "The Sheriff's already called and told me about Ashley and her child. You didn't need to come all the way here." he said in greeting. "Not that I'm complaining about your presence, of course."

"Stop it." she bit out harshly, and he tilted his head and blinked at her. "Stop this  _act_. I know what Ashley took from the shop and I figured I should congratulate you because it's been a while since I've seen such a good actor. Did you think no one would find out?"

"Find out what?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. "Honestly, Swan, I have to admit I'm rather confused. What are you talking about?"

"You're still keeping up the act?" she laughed bitterly and glanced down at the floor when he bit his lip and stared at her. "You can't fool me this time. You basically  _bought_ her baby. What are you going to do now? Ashley's keeping her daughter and you have no right to stop her from choosing to do that. And you know, I applaud you for the fake concern about her well-being and managing to convince both Graham and myself that you only wanted us to find her because you actually had some decency."

"I don't-" Jones stammered, and Emma looked quickly up at him. He looked completely thrown and for a second, she felt a shiver of doubt run through her. "Emma, look, I never said I was a decent person. I'm not. But what you're accusing me of-"

She didn't let him finish. "Thanks for admitting it." she interrupted, reaching out to take a firm hold of his arm and then tugging him out of the doorway. "I figured that Graham should hear this too. Because maybe I'm not too clear on every law, but I'm pretty certain that buying and selling people is dubious at best."

Jones stumbled after her, allowing her to push him into the passenger seat of her Bug. He remained quiet even once she joined him in the vehicle, and Emma noticed him toying anxiously with the fingers on his prosthetic.

They were only minutes away from the Sheriff station when he spoke. "Emma?"

She flexed her hands against the steering wheel, refusing to react to the muted uncertainty she could hear in his voice. "Don't speak. Please."

He exhaled shakily. "Do what you want with me, Emma. But  _please_ , read the contract. Whatever you think of me, just give me that."

Emma didn't respond, didn't say another word to him, even when she explained what was going on to the Sheriff and watched him bundle Jones into one of the station's cells.

But after Graham took the contract and placed it on his desk, Emma snatched it back the second his back was turned.

Jones' words had  _not_  gotten through to her. She wasn't doing this because of  _him_. She didn't believe Jones, but she needed to know everything because she didn't  _understand_  how she could have been so wrong.

~~~*~~~

Determined not to think about the baby-selling contract she had stuffed in her jacket pocket, she had tossed the jacket onto the couch the instant she arrived back at the apartment and then sank down onto one of the dining chairs, her head in her hands.

"Hot Cocoa?" Emma glanced up when she heard Mary-Margaret's voice, seeing the teacher already holding out a steaming mug, concern written all over her expression. "You look like you need it."

"I really,  _really_ do." Emma breathed, taking the drink and letting the sides of the mug warm her hands for a few seconds. "Sorry about leaving my stuff all over the place. I'll finish sorting it soon, don't worry."

"It's fine." Mary-Margaret said, sitting down next to her. "Just do it whenever you have the time. I'm happy to help you, if you need a hand."

"Tomorrow, I promise." Emma insisted, but Mary-Margaret shrugged. Maybe she really didn't care, but Emma didn't want to risk irritating her. "I really can't tonight though. It's been… well, I can't even describe today. Not what I expected."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She hadn't thought she did, but actually, now that Mary-Margaret was asking and  _listening_ , Emma wanted to spill everything. "Well, it was just a missing persons case. Which is fine. I can solve them. I  _did_ solve it."

"That's wonderful!" Mary-Margaret congratulated, reaching out to pat Emma's hand. "But that's not everything, I guess?"

"No. I… Okay, well, Jones had reported Ashley Boyd missing." Emma said quickly, taking a sip of her hot cocoa when she saw the intrigue on her roommate's face. "She'd run off after breaking into his store and stealing something. And he said he didn't know what she'd taken, but…"

"What was it?"

"I shouldn't tell you. Open case and all that." Emma evaded, because it suddenly struck her that it was  _definitely_ a bad idea to start gossiping about Ashley Boyd and Killian Jones and him  _buying her baby_. "But Jones isn't who I thought he was."

Mary-Margaret frowned and then yawned. "Who did you think he was?"

"I don't even know." Emma sighed. "But I didn't think he was someone I'd have to report to the Sheriff. I mean, he was  _odd_ , I'd figured that much out but… I didn't think he would have done this."

The other woman yawned again, and for the first time, Emma realised just how late it was. "It might not be what it looks like."

Emma couldn't imagine  _how_ it could be anything else - and as much as she hated it, she really  _wished_ it was - and she was about to tell Mary-Margaret that, but then the teacher yawned again and Emma remembered the single digits on the clock. "Go to bed." she told the other woman with a warm smile, realising that it was very likely Mary-Margaret was only up because she was waiting for Emma to return home. "Thank you for staying up, especially after our late night yesterday, but we don't need you falling asleep in class on Monday."

Mary-Margaret chuckled, but asked a few more questions about Ashley and her baby - in small towns, they really did know everyone - before agreeing that she needed to sleep.

And so, Emma downed the rest of her drink and rinsed the mug before moving to go upstairs. Halfway up the steps, the contract came back into her mind, as well as Jones' desperate, quiet plea for her to read it, and although she couldn't see how it could help, she went to get it.

She lay in bed for almost half an hour before she decided to actually see what it said.

It didn't make much sense. Emma wasn't used to reading contracts and this one was full of clauses and complicated words, but she did gather that Ashley would have received a ridiculous amount of money if she'd gone through with it.

But what stood out to Emma was that the contract wasn't dated and  _wasn't_ signed by Killian Jones.

It was signed by a Mr Gold.

~~~*~~~

Emma woke to the ringing of her phone, and it took a few seconds for her to wake enough to have the common sense to grab it and look at the caller ID, frowning when it was an unknown caller. However, she still answered the call, curling up into her pillow and hoping she didn't have get out of bed for anything.

"Swan?"

She had completely forgotten that Killian Jones had her number, because he'd never used it. But even if she hadn't forgotten, he was the last person she would have expected to call her this morning. "Are you using your one phone call to call  _me_?"

There was silence for a few seconds. "Indeed."

"And you didn't think that I might just hang up?" she asked, shifting slightly and realising that the contract was wrinkled underneath her. She must have fallen asleep as she tried to decipher it. "Calling me was a bit of a risk."

"I'm aware."

"Shouldn't you be calling a lawyer?" She asked, and she heard him chuckle. The sound made her smile - but only for a second - and she relaxed further into the mattress. "Not me?"

"I won't need a lawyer." He said, and for a second, she thought he sounded smug and she felt irritated that he could assume he could get away with it. "Not if you read the contract." His voice faltered, and her annoyance fell away, remembering the signature of Mr Gold footing the contract. " _Did_ you read the contract?"

She swallowed, because he sounded really nervous. "I did." she admitted quietly, and his sigh was loud down the phone-line. "I'll come and talk."

Emma hung up.

In ten minutes, she was out of the apartment. Twenty minutes, and she was striding into the Sheriff's station.

Killian Jones was reclined on the cot, reading 'A Christmas Carol' and looking very disheveled. He didn't even notice she had entered the room, clearly engrossed in the old novel.

"You're looking rather comfortable." she called out and, for the first time, he didn't meet her gaze with a smile. "Where did you get the book?"

"Lacey." he answered dully, folding down the corner of a page and then sitting up. "Apparently, everyone in Storybrooke has already heard the story of how you dragged me here last night. One of the dock workers must have seen. Lacey seemed to want to come and enjoy the fact that for once, I was the one behind bars. She brought along this though, to lessen the blow."

"Right." She muttered, her hand going to her pocket and taking hold of the contract. "So, can you explain any of this?"

"What do you need explained?" he asked, standing up so he could join her at the bars of the cell. "Isn't it clear that I'm not involved?"

"Your signature isn't on the contract, sure, but it was in your shop." she pointed out, and he frowned. " _Who_ is Mr Gold? Why is it his signature on the contract?"

"I had figured it was him." Jones grumbled, his expression darkening. "He's the man who owned the shop before I did. Remember, it's called Mr Gold's Pawnbrokers? If anyone could keep a deal after they were gone, it would be him."

"That doesn't make sense." Emma said haltingly, wishing that he was telling the truth but unable to trust that he was. "You've run the shop for years. From what I've gathered, Mr Gold's been gone a long time and this deal could only have been made within the last nine months. And you expect me to believe he made the deal?"

Jones' jaw clenched and he looked down at the ground. "I don't want to lie to you, Swan." he said quietly. "But I can't give an explanation that makes sense."

"But you  _have_  an explanation?"

"Not one you'll accept." Jones muttered, and then he looked at her again and his eyes were  _so_ earnest, that Emma felt herself step closer, her hand curling around one of the cell bars. "Look, running the shop isn't what I wanted to do, but what I had to do. After Mr Gold was gone, there was no one running it, so I said I'd do it. But I've never  _cared._ I spend as little time as I can in that building, and trust me, I didn't even know that there was a safe behind the counter, let alone that it contained  _that_  contract."

"You didn't know there was a safe in the shop?"

"I've always been partial to keeping my gold close." He answered with a shrug. "Please, Emma. There's a lot I don't know about the shop and I hope you can believe me when I say that this contract is one of those things."

His hand wrapped around hers, his touch hot against her skin, and Emma gazed at him, trying to read  _anything_ in his expression, but she couldn't. "I can't." she admitted quietly, tugging her hand away from the bars, away from  _his_ , and ignored how he swallowed and step away. "What you're saying is insane. Mr Gold, whatever sort of man he was, couldn't have made  _this_ deal. He's been gone for too long."

"Would I have gone to the Sheriff if I knew?"

"If you really are telling the truth, and had nothing to do with this, convince me."

"I don't know how." Jones whispered, and she felt  _something_ when he turned his back on her and wandered over to the cot. "I don't know what else I can say. Is there no way that you can trust me on this?"

"And if I can't?"

"I'll get out of here no matter what." He told her with a despondent shrug. "Regina will make sure of that. But I'd rather you know the truth."

She turned away, because if she could trust her feelings around him, she'd think he was telling the truth. And if he  _was_ telling the truth now, then he'd never lied to her and Graham, and that meant that she  _could_  trust her judgement.

That she hadn't been wrong.

"I don't think you're lying." she said tensely, and she heard him exhale loudly. "Not about the deal. And I'll talk to Graham. But I was wrong about you."

"Wrong?"

She turned back to see him standing near her again, clearly searching her face for an explanation, and she couldn't let him see that she  _had_ nearly trusted him, back before she'd heard him talking to Regina, before the contract had been found in his shop.

"Emma?" he called, when she started to walk away. "Thank you."

"Don't." she said back. She was done with him and his evasiveness and his  _insane_ truths.

And yet, she glanced back over her shoulder when she reached the exit. He was slumped over, back against the wall over the cell, and rifling angrily through the pages of his book.

A page ripped, and he swore and threw the book to the ground, his head falling back against the wall.

Emma got out of there before she saw anything else and felt any worse.

~~~*~~~

Graham told her to meet him at Granny's diner, and Emma arrived to see him sat in a booth, two steaming mugs on the table. He looked like he'd just showered, his damp hair flat against his forehead. "Sorry I couldn't meet you at the station." he said when she arrived, pushing one of the mugs towards her. "I was busy here so I figured it was best if you could meet me. But a hot cocoa makes up for that, right?"

"I suppose." She agreed, taking a sip and then smiling at the Sheriff when she noticed the cinnamon sprinkled on the whipped cream. "What were you doing here?"

"Nothing important." he told her with a shrug. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Emma swallowed and then handed him the creased contract, a sheepish smile on her face. "I may have stolen this back after I gave it to you yesterday." she admitted. "You going to arrest me again?"

Graham's eyebrows rose up his forehead and then he grinned at her. "I'll let you off this time." he teased, brushing his hair away from his forehead and then starting to skim over the contract. "As a reward for your honesty."

"It's signed by a Mr Gold." she said, not willing to wait for him to read the entire, ridiculously long, document. "Not by Killian Jones."

"Mr Gold has been dead a long time, Emma. He can't have made this deal." Graham pointed out. "And it was found in Ashley's possession and we  _know_ it's what she took from Jones' shop.  _You_ reported him yesterday and what, you think I'm going to just let him go?"

"I spoke to him." Emma murmured, watching anxiously as Graham folded the paper up and put it in the pocket of his jacket. "He had no idea. He insists it wasn't him and I believe him."

"You believe him?" Graham repeated doubtfully. "You believed him yesterday, until you didn't anymore."

"If he's telling the truth now, it means he was telling the truth then." she insisted and Graham shrugged, looking as if he didn't believe a thing she was saying. "Look, you won't be charging him with anything. You know that, right? Regina will see to that."

Mentioning Regina seemed to have convinced him more than anything Emma had said before, although admittedly all she had done was try to convince him that Killian Jones wasn't lying, and she'd been rather uncertain about that over the past day. "That's true."

"What? So you don't care whether or not he's innocent, but just whether or not Regina will want him freed?" Emma stated, leaning back in order to level Graham with a judgemental look. "And now you've remembered that Jones and the Mayor are  _friends_ , you're happy to just let him go?"

"I thought you wanted that?" Graham asked and Emma gaped at him. Yes, she wanted him free - she did  _not_ want to be the reason someone was wrongfully imprisoned - but she wanted him released because Graham believed he was innocent, not because of Regina's hold over the town. "Look, I'll go and release him now. No more questions or paperwork. The deals not being kept anyway, so…"

Emma smiled tightly at him, downed the rest of the hot cocoa and followed him out of the diner, making sure to press a few dollars into his hand so he hadn't paid for the drink.

They reached the station after five minutes of silence, Emma's bug parked right outside, and Emma watched stoically as Graham unlocked the cell and allowed Jones to leave, refusing to answer most of Jones' questions.

But when the Sheriff showed Jones the contract, the pawnbroker ripped it from his hand and tore it into pieces, a harsh, satisfied laugh escaping him when he let the pieces flutter to the ground, stepping on them as he strode towards the exit, towards Emma.

"Hey." she said quietly, and Jones halted mid-step, turning to look at her. "I thought I could, maybe, give you a lift back to the docks?"

He swallowed and then huffed, a cruel sound that Emma hadn't expected. "I'd rather not bother you more than necessary." he said quietly, and Emma frowned at him. "Especially now that I've worked out exactly what you think of me. Really, you needn't your waste your time by trying to be polite."

"Look, Jones, I-"

"Don't speak." He said quickly, interrupting her. "Please."

And she watched him stride outside and down the street, and she had no idea what she was feeling, except she  _hurt._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos/comments! It means a lot that you all seem to be enjoying this. Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me. Enjoy!

**Chapter 5**

The uniform Graham had given her, the one he didn't even wear himself, was not something Emma wanted to wear. She didn't really see how an outfit would help at all in her job as deputy, because if she could take down bail jumpers in a skin-tight dress, she was pretty certain she didn't need a uniform to deal with a few drunk townsfolk.

But for a moment, as Graham tried to find the Deputy's badge for her to wear, she left the shirt rumpled on the desk.

No, she would definitely be more comfortable in her leather jackets.

"And  _why_ do I need to wear this?" she asked, as Graham wandered through from the back room to start searching through his office. "Your waist coat and skinny jeans aren't exactly regulation."

"But people know me." Graham pointed out, the door to his office open so he could talk to her as he rifled through his desk drawers. "I don't need to wear the uniform to get them to do what I say."

"And you think  _I_ do?" Emma blinked at him, and the sheriff shrugged, clearly floundering for a response. And then Graham straightened up, clearly deciding to commit to his statement.

"I think that maybe, right  _now_ , you do." He said, but his tone was light enough for her to know he was joking. "I doubt Regina will be listening to you unless you're in this."

"I doubt Regina will listen to me no matter what I wear." Emma corrected, and Graham chuckled, closing the desk drawer with a slam. "And can you  _really_ not find the Deputy badge?"

"Well, it's not like I've ever used it." Graham muttered, now hidden behind the desk as he continued to rummage through his things. "As long as I've been Sheriff, there's been no deputies."

"How long  _have_  you been Sheriff?"

Graham didn't answer, instead standing up with a triumphant grin and holding out the badge. "With this and that uniform, you're not going to have any trouble controlling the crowd at the Rabbit Hole."

Emma rolled her eyes and then grabbed the shirt, holding it up to her body and looking disbelievingly at Graham when she noticed the attached tie. "A tie?" she said doubtfully, deciding not to even mention the colour. "You know you don't have to dress a woman as a man to give her authority?"

"So you think you can get people to do what you want in that red coat?" Graham asked, his lips pressed together in a doubtful expression, but Emma could already tell he was going to allow her to wear what she wanted.

"I'm getting you to do what I want right now." She pointed out smugly, folding the shirt back up and tossing it back onto the desk and then placing her hands on her hips.

Graham looked from the crumpled shirt back up to her and then held out the deputy badge. "At least wear the badge." he suggested. Emma frowned at him, but he just shook the badge a bit, holding it slightly closer to her face "Go on, take it. If you really want to be a part of this community, we have to make it official."

Emma shot him an exasperated look, because somehow Graham knew  _just_ what to say in order to goad her into snatching the badge out of his hand and clipping it onto her belt.

The second the badge was secure, the ground began to shake, a violent tremor that rocked the building and made Emma and Graham stumble.

The quake was short, and the instant it finished, the station burst into noise, car alarms sounding from outside and the phones ringing constantly. Graham pointed her to the desk, heading quickly back into his office.

"Looks like you'll be busier than I thought." He said, his face worried. "Just tell the callers that we're looking into it and we'll let everyone know as soon as we know what happened. Tell me if there's anything we urgently need to deal with."

It only took a few people for Emma to realise that the earthquake, or whatever it was, had done more than just set off a few alarms and broken a few ornaments.

Outside town, just beside the park, the ground had collapsed.

Emma told Graham, but it appeared that he already knew from the calls that he had answered. "We better get over there." he muttered, leading Emma to the police car. "Honestly, I don't really know what I'm doing. There's never been an earthquake here before."

"And you expect me to know?" Emma asked with a laugh, buckling herself into the passenger seat. "Again, finding people is what I do. Natural disasters are a new thing for me too."

"A new thing for both of us, then." Graham said with a smile, turning on the siren and pulling away from the station. "It might be nice not to be the only one on the case."

"Maybe." Emma agreed absently, Graham's sincere expression making her nervous and slightly uncomfortable. But he was right. She  _had_ been working alone her whole life, and perhaps it would be nice to have someone else to rely on.

Except she didn't want to rely on anyone, because then what would she do when she was alone again.

She could feel Graham glancing over at her, looking between her and the road as he drove them towards the mine.

But she didn't say another word.

~~~*~~~

Perhaps it was a bad thing that Emma had only been a deputy for a few days and she was already taking her work home. However, Graham had dumped all the mine-related paperwork on her and left the station to do something he wouldn't tell her about.

She'd made sure any calls to the station would be forwarded to her home, and then she'd returned to the apartment and spread the papers over the couch, relaxing into the seat with a hot cocoa in one hand and a pen in the other.

The work was boring enough so that she was easily distracted when the door opened and Mary-Margaret came in, leaning against the door and closing her eyes, breathing deeply.

Emma recognised the conflicted look on the woman's face. "Have you been at the hospital again?" she asked, her question answered when Mary-Margaret simply sighed and wandered over to the kitchen area. "Because that look is the 'I've just seen David Nolan' look and I really shouldn't be as familiar with it as I am."

"I don't have a 'David Nolan' look!" Mary-Margaret protested, rifling through the cupboards and pulling out a bag of marshmallows and some crackers. "Well, maybe I do, but I can't help seeing him. I  _do_ volunteer at the hospital."

"And how did you spend your time volunteering today?" Emma asked knowingly, because Mary-Margaret had been too breathless when she got home for her to have only seen him. "Making rounds, or…?"

"Alright, I may have played hangman with him." The teacher said, pre-heating the oven and clearly determined to not look at Emma. "And he may have said that he wouldn't let me lose and that he'd keep drawing feet and toes and fingers until I guessed."

The teacher's smile was impossibly wide and happy for a second, but then it faded away.

"And he may have a  _wife_?" Emma reminded her, knowing exactly what was behind the teacher's disappearing smile. "Even if he doesn't remember her."

Mary-Margaret sighed, putting a dozen marshmallows onto a tray and sliding it into the oven. "I know. But sometime you just have to take a chance, right?" she questioned hesitantly, and Emma raised an eyebrow. "I remember how he looked at me when he woke up. It couldn't have been nothing."

Emma raised an eyebrow, finally abandoning any pretense that she was still working and wandering over to take a seat at the kitchen counter.

"I'm the worst person in the world." Mary-Margaret said suddenly, not meeting Emma's gaze and gazing a bit too intently at the s'mores she was making.

"Really?" Emma asked, amused. "In the whole world?"

"If Kathryn was horrible, it would be easier." Mary-Margaret said through a mouthful of marshmallow. "But she's so… nice."

"And  _what_ exactly would be easier?" Emma prompted, raising her eyebrows at the teacher.

Mary-Margaret stared at her for a few seconds and then shook her head. "Nothing."

"Nothing's a good idea." Emma said firmly, because she'd done the whole affair thing before and she knew it  _never_ ended well. Not that she'd been with more than one married guy, but she knew that it wasn't easy and she knew that it hurt. "You're smart. You know not to get involved with a married guy. It's not worth the heartache.  _Trust me_."

Mary-Margaret looked up at her, clearly wanting to ask more, but Emma didn't want to say anymore. Luckily, there was a knock on the door before Mary-Margaret had the chance to ask anything, and Emma quickly moved to let whoever it was in.

It was Henry, his lip trembling and his eyes wet. "Kid?" Emma breathed, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" Henry took in an uneasy, choked breath, and she steered him inside, brushing the paperwork off the couch and onto the floor and then sitting beside him. "What  _happened_?"

"Archie." Henry stammered, his head bowed, and Emma hesitated for just a second and then she reached out and tucked him under her arm, into her side. "He said… he told me everything was a delusion. That the curse was nonsense. He said I might be locked up because I hadn't outgrown this. That it was… a psychosis."

He stammered over the last word, but it was clear enough to Emma for her to feel rage at Archie filling her. The therapist had told her that she couldn't take Henry's world away from him, and that being called crazy could damage him, and yet he'd gone and done just that.

And now Henry was crying into her shoulder and Emma was ready to march right over to Archie's office and tell him exactly how furious she was at him.

But she had to make sure Henry was alright first.

Mary-Margaret joined them, passing Henry a small plate with a s'more on it without a word. Henry smiled weakly up at his teacher, and began to pick at the melted marshmallow.

"Look, kid, no one's going to lock you up anywhere." Emma started, trying to keep her anger out of her voice. "And it's not a psychosis or a delusion."

"The curse," Henry said quietly, looking up at her. "It's not nonsense. You believe me, don't you?"

Emma swallowed and glanced briefly up at Mary-Margaret, because she didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to hurt him and right now, with him in tears, she didn't even want to be the skeptic she usually pretended to be. "I do."

Henry stared at her, and then his lip trembled slightly and he nodded. And Emma wasn't sure if he bought it, but she really hoped he had. "Okay."

She held him closer just for a second and then she let go and stood up, adjusting her leather jacket and not looking at Henry or Mary-Margaret because, right now, she was feeling too many things. "Alright, kid. Let me take you home."

~~~*~~~

Emma had never felt so much in one day. Her fury at Archie had faded the instant she heard Henry was missing, and when she realised he was trapped in the mine, a whole flood of emotions raged through her. She'd been desperate, terrified, anxious, and then, suddenly, Pongo had found Henry and Emma had found herself abseiling down a mineshaft to take her son and his therapist back above ground.

And then the mayor had pulled Henry aside and not even allowed Emma to hug him. Alright, maybe they'd been able to talk later, when she'd taken her son's hand and told him that he'd scared her, but it hadn't been enough. Not after everything.

But then Henry had shown up at the loft again, telling her Regina was busy with fixing the mine, and Mary-Margaret had already been there, moping over something that Emma truly wanted to talk to her about but hadn't had time to. So she'd left the two of them together and gone to fetch ice-cream.

They all needed it.

Arriving at the ice-cream parlour - seriously, she was surprised Storybrooke had an ice-cream parlour open when it was dark - she pushed open the door and wandered inside. "Still open?" she called, just wanting to make sure, but she didn't give the owner any time to answer. "I need a couple of pints for my son. He loves this place."

And then she got to the counter and the server turned round and Emma felt her heart stop because it  _couldn't_ be Ingrid but she was unmistakable.

She hadn't even  _changed_.

Emma hadn't thought about her in years, hadn't  _allowed_ herself to, but she was right there and Emma didn't know what to do. "Ingrid,"

"Emma." Ingrid breathed, stepping closer and Emma couldn't move.

"What the  _hell_ are you doing here?" She forced out, clenching her fists and managing to take a step backwards.

"Ever since you came to Storybrooke," Ingrid started, moving from behind the counter and walking towards her. "I've been waiting for you to come to my shop. I wanted to give you space, let you come to me."

"My space?" Emma  _couldn't_ deal with this, not today, not after everything, but it was impossible for her to leave. She needed to know how Ingrid knew she was here,  _what_ she knew. "Are you out of your mind? Are you  _following_ me?"

And Ingrid kept talking, and Emma wasn't even aware of what she was saying other than she sounded as mad as she had before, when she'd pulled Emma out into the street, in front of a car, except now she was saying this place was  _magic_ , that Storybrooke was why she hadn't aged.

Then she mentioned Henry and Emma snapped.

"No!" She said loudly, stepping angrily towards the woman. "I know you screwed up  _my_ life. You're crazy! Crazy then, crazy now! You tried to  _kill_  me!" And although she had a deputy badge on her belt and Ingrid was just  _looking_ at her, she couldn't do a thing. She just couldn't. "Get out of my way! I'm going to call Sheriff Graham."

Except Ingrid stopped her, held a rock out and then Emma wasn't sure what was happening except the rock was glowing and humming.

And then she was falling back and the ice-cream lady was holding her steady, and Emma had no idea what was going on except she needed to get ice-cream for Henry. She was there to get ice-cream for Henry.

"You okay?"

"What happened?" Emma asked the woman, unable to remember how she'd gotten from the door to the counter.

"You slipped. You almost fell." The woman explained, making sure she was stable and then releasing Emma, moving to go behind the counter. "Do you still want that ice-cream?"

"Yeah." she answered, still feeling dazed and uncertain. "Two pints of Cherry Vanilla."

And it was as if her mind was busy, but Emma didn't know what with, only barely paying attention as the woman handed her a small scoop of Rocky Road on the house, which was delicious, and then taking the two pints of Cherry Vanilla and complimentary Rocky Road in her arms and telling the woman goodbye.

Emma stumbled as she left the shop, a strange dull buzz in her mind and the cold of the ice cream biting her hands. She knew she wanted to get the ice cream to Henry, but she felt weirdly disorientated as she strode along the Main Street and it  _had_ to be her total unexplained disconnection from the world that led to her running directly into Killian Jones.

Luckily, she didn't fall, only staggering back a few paces. When she looked up at him, she was half-expecting the same cold glare he had worn in the sheriff station days before, but his expression was concerned.

And Emma was a bit distracted by the creepy puppets he had hanging from his fake hand. "What the hell are those?"

Jones glanced down at them and shrugged. "No clue. I found them in the shop." he explained. "It seemed rather unlikely that they'd ever be sold so I was debating hiding them from view but I ran into Archie and he seemed interested. I'll happily give these to anyone if it means I no longer have to look at them."

"I don't blame you." she replied, swallowing when she noticed that Jones was shuffling awkwardly, one finger scratching behind his ear, and she wished she hadn't had him arrested, because this encounter was irritatingly uncomfortable.

For a minute, they stood in silence and then Jones swallowed loudly. "Are you alright?" he asked, gesturing towards her. "You look rather dazed."

"I'm fine." she said with a shrug. "Just a bit exhausted after everything."

Jones nodded and then looked away, as if he had somewhere he needed to be but was unwilling to walk away first, and Emma frowned at him. Mary-Margaret's words from that morning were playing on repeat in her mind - 'sometimes you just need to take a chance' - and as much as taking a chance  _terrified_ her, it had to be better than this awkward shuffling on the sidewalk. "Actually, I got some free ice cream so I have more than enough if you'd like to join me. And Henry. Henry will be there too, but I'm sure he won't mind."

He wouldn't mind, and she would be subjected to hundreds of questions about Killian Jones and Prince Charles and all of that ridiculousness, but now that she'd asked, she couldn't take the offer back.

She didn't really  _want_ to take the offer back. It was just ice cream, after all.

Jones raised an eyebrow, and gazed at her for a few painful seconds and then he sighed. "I think not, Swan. I have some puppets to deliver, after all."

Puppets? He was using the  _puppets_ as an excuse.

"Oh, right." Emma said, shrugging as if it was no big deal. It  _was_ no big deal. "Of course. You don't want to keep Archie waiting."

"Honestly, I would rather get these monstrosities out of my sight as quickly as possible." Jones said, a smirk appearing on his lips. Emma didn't want to hang around, not when he clearly didn't want to spend time with her, so she didn't answer and just started to walk away. "Swan? The lad's alright, isn't he?"

"What?"

"Regina called earlier." Killian prompted, and Emma blinked at him because she thought he had wanted to leave. "She called me, said something to do with a collapsed mineshaft?"

"You must be the only person in Storybrooke who wasn't there." Emma said doubtfully. "But yeah, Henry and Archie were trapped underground for a while. He's good now, though."

"Well, that's a relief. However, are  _you_ alright?" Jones asked, stepping closer and canting his head to the side slightly. "I can't imagine it was easy for you when Henry was in the mines."

"Well, that's why I got ice cream." Emma said dismissively, confused by his attempts to continue the conversation after he had denied her invitation only minutes earlier. "I'm fine. Really. You better get those puppets to Archie before he gets impatient. If Archie can even  _be_ impatient."

Jones chuckled stiltedly, and then gave her a tight smile. "I'd prefer not to be the one to find out."

She forced out another smile and then turned to walk away, because the ice cream was getting soft and  _not_ because she'd asked him to join her and he'd said no.

"Swan?" he called after her, and she paused in the street, turning to look back at him. "I really am just busy right now. If you would like to join me, Lacey and Sidney this time, I would more than welcome your presence."

"I'll see how I feel." she replied carefully, because although spending an evening in Sidney Glass' company was still one of the last things she wanted to do, she felt thoroughly relieved that after the whole contract debacle, he still wanted to spend some time with her. And at the same time, she  _couldn't_ deal with whatever it was he wanted from her. "I might have an early night."

"Of course." he accepted with a dim smile. "I hope you feel better, Swan."

He strode away first, the puppets dancing menacingly from his hand. Emma watched him go.

~~~*~~~

"I got the Cherry Vanilla you wanted." Emma called out when she entered the apartment, even though the table was close enough to the door that she didn't need to yell. "And some Rocky Road, as a treat."

"Rocky Road too!" Henry cheered, leaping up from his seat next to Mary-Margaret and darting over to take the pints from Emma. "Can I eat all of it  _now_?"

Mary-Margaret laughed and took the ice-cream from Henry, immediately serving it out into the three bowls she already had on table. "It's probably better to save some of it for another time."

Henry pouted for only a second and then cheered up. "Yes, because mom's making lasagne tonight. And her lasagne is the best."

Emma smiled at him, relief filling her, again, because he was okay. His trip down the mines appeared to have had a more lasting effect on Emma and Regina than it had on him. "Well, there you go then." She said, even though after today she wished Henry didn't have to go home to Regina.

But Emma was aware enough to know that she was already lucky to get even this time with him. If Regina hadn't needed to sort out emergency paperwork and organise safety around the mine, Henry wouldn't have been able to spend any time with her.

For a few minutes, they just ate the ice-cream in a comfortable silence and Emma had to admit that as  _nice_ as it was, it felt strange to be sitting and having ice-cream with her  _son_  and her  _roommate_. It wasn't exactly a scenario she had  _ever_ imagined, but it felt secure enough for her to just enjoy it.

Because it  _wasn't_  perfect. Her son was going back home to his mother's house in half an hour after a day trapped in the mines because he believed that there was proof of an evil curse hidden under the town.

And if it wasn't  _perfect_ , Emma was less terrified that it would all go away.

"So why did you get so much ice-cream?" Mary-Margaret asked as they both watched Henry spoon another ball of Rocky Road into his bowl. "Wasn't two pints enough?"

"I actually got one pint for free, so I wasn't going to turn that down." Emma explained with a chuckle.

"Why?" Henry asked through a mouthful and Emma shrugged. She didn't want Henry to know about her dizzy spell, especially because she had decided it  _had_ to have been brought on by the anxiety she'd felt for most of the day.

"I don't really know." Emma answered, taking a minute to appreciate the smooth flavour of the Cherry Vanilla, the flavour Henry had demanded but she'd never tried before. "I did think it was a bit much for the three of us though, so I invited Jones along. He was busy though."

"You invited Mr Jones?" Mary-Margaret asked, her eyebrows high on her forehead. "How did  _that_ happen?"

"He's her Prince." Henry said quickly, before Emma had a chance to actually explain and a wide grin spread across the teacher's face. "In the book, he's her Prince. The way that David Nolan is  _your_ Prince."

Mary-Margaret's smile faltered, and Emma frowned at her, wondering what had caused such a response after her enthusiasm about seeing the man earlier in the day. "Oh, I don't know, Henry. He didn't join us, did he?"

"He  _was_ busy." Emma protested, because as much as she wished Henry would realise that his stories were just that, he'd been through enough today without Emma flatly denying his claims that Jones was the man for her. "He had some creepy puppets to deliver to Archie, so watch out when you're next at his office, Henry. They were the ugliest things I've seen in a long time."

Henry laughed loudly, and the sound made a grin cross her face. "He does that sometimes. One time, he gave Mr Glass a genie lamp for no reason. Just because."

"A genie lamp?"

"Well, it looked like a genie lamp." Henry insisted, stuffing another overloaded spoonful into his mouth. Emma smiled fondly at him, relieved that the puppets seemed to have distracted Henry from talking about Prince Charles.

Except Mary-Margaret seemed unsurprisingly keen to hear the story of Princess Leia and Prince Charles, so Emma checked the clock and decided it was time for Henry to be taken home. It really was getting late.

They'd been eating ice-cream for longer than planned anyway, and she was certain Regina would be arriving, furious, if she kept Henry for too long.

Not that Henry was supposed to be with her anyway, but after the mines, she had wanted to spend some time with him.

She still wanted to spend time with him, but the hours in the day she could spend with him had run out. Although, she  _was_  going to walk him all the way back to the mayor's home, no matter what Regina was going to say about it, because he had run off into the mines earlier and she had to make sure Henry wasn't going to run off anywhere else in search of some sort of proof.

So Emma thanked Mary-Margaret, who was already collecting the bowls and clearly planning on starting to wash the dishes, and placed her hand on Henry's shoulder, gently steering him away from the slightly-melted remaining ice-cream and out of the door.

Mary-Margaret took the opportunity to jokingly remind Henry that even after everything that day, he still had homework due.

Henry grumbled good-heartedly, but it seemed ice-cream had cheered him up enough that not even a mention of homework would dampen his mood.

~~~*~~~

Emma and Mary-Margaret had finished the ice-cream off themselves over a conversation about David Nolan and the wife and dog he still didn't remember, followed by a brief, irritation-fuelled chat about the mayor. Although Mary-Margaret was clearly not the type to gossip, excusing herself by saying she needed to go and mark some homework before having a bath.

Emma felt like a terrible person, but when she'd dropped Henry off at his home, Regina had pulled him away and given Emma a vicious glare and stomped away with Henry before Emma could even say goodbye. The same way she had stopped Emma from hugging him once she knew, for certain, he was safe.

For a while, Emma just sat at the wooden table, a lukewarm hot cocoa in her hands and her mind racing, consumed by thoughts of what had happened that day.

She had never been so frightened before, had never known she could be  _that_ frightened until Henry was trapped underground and they couldn't figure out how to save him.

God, she needed to think of  _anything_ else.

"I'm going out." she announced, rapping gently on the bathroom door to get Mary-Margaret's attention. "I don't know when I'll be back. After today, I  _really_ need a drink."

There was a mumble of acknowledgement, and then Emma threw on her leather jacket and left the apartment.

It was getting cold, the chill in the air getting worse with each day, and Emma pulled her jacket more tightly around her body as she strode through the deserted streets.

She had been in Storybrooke for just over two weeks, had gotten a  _job_ and a  _roommate,_ but she was always surprised at just how deserted the town was once the night fell and the streetlights came on.

Storybrooke was  _nothing_ like Boston, and although it felt strange to admit it, Emma was looking forward to a job where she would only be dealing with people like Leroy and Lacey. It seemed unlikely anything more taxing would come her way, nothing like some of the jobs she'd had in the years since she had decided to be a bail bondsperson.

Although, she wasn't sure if she could cope with anything like today happening again.

Even the memory of standing outside the mine with Archie, feeling the earth shake and  _knowing_ Henry was inside, filled her with a horror that she couldn't shake even though she  _knew_ he was fine.

Emma was pretty certain that the drink she needed would  _not_ be served at Granny's.

It turned out that everyone who  _might_ have been found wandering the streets of Storybrooke at such a late hour was in the Rabbit Hole. Emma could see Leroy near the jukebox, a tankard of beer in his hand. Ruby was dancing, arms around the neck of Billy the Mechanic, and being watched by a leering Doctor Whale.

But, as much as she hated to admit it, she wasn't looking for Leroy or Ruby or Doctor Whale. She was looking for Killian Jones.

Emma wanted to have a few shots, and have a laugh with Jones because she needed to do something  _fun_ after the day she'd had. And if that meant she had to apologise for getting him arrested (and she wanted to apologise, she really did, but she also  _really_  didn't), then she would do it.

Because it would be no fun if everything was still awkward.

She ordered some rum and then perched on one of the bar stools, peering around for any sign of the pawnbroker. Sidney Glass was there, but he was drinking alone. But if he was in the bar, Emma was certain that Jones was too.

Then she heard a raucous yell and she just  _knew_ it was him. She turned towards the sound, swallowing when she saw him leaning against the snooker table, cue in his hand and Lacey at his side. The woman was holding an empty shot glass, her other hand playing with the collar of Jones' shirt as she talked to him.

It looked as though he had won the game, but they were clearly not done playing. Lacey's hand moved away from his collar, down his arm, and she took the cue from him, her fingers stroking the cue teasingly before she pulled it away from his hold.

Jones chuckled, that same deep sound Emma had heard before and it was  _still_ annoyingly attractive. As Lacey set the table back up, Jones glanced around the room and then Emma wondered if he was looking for her.

And although she  _had_ wanted to talk to him, she just didn't anymore.

Emma downed the rest of her drink and slid off the seat, wandering through one of the bigger crowds on the way out of the bar.

She was leaving because she'd caught sight of Sidney walking towards her. No other reason.

No reason at all.

But she still needed to do something, so she didn't go back to the apartment yet. She kept walking down Main Street, wondering if she'd be able to get anything strong enough from Granny's.

The diner was quiet, almost deserted apart from Graham and Granny herself, and from the look of the glass in Graham's hand, maybe Emma's visit wouldn't be in vain.

"I'll have whatever the Sheriff's having." she told Granny, who chuckled and busied herself with preparing Emma's drink. As she waited, Emma took a few deep breaths.

The whole day had been crap.

Once the drink was placed in front of her, she took a small, wary sip. Whiskey. It would do. When she wasn't drinking, she swirled the drink around the bottom of the glass and watched the Sheriff. Graham was playing darts, alone, throwing the three darts into the centre of the board and then retrieving them and starting again.

And he didn't have anyone hanging off him.

_Where had that thought come from?_

She inhaled shakily, finished the whiskey and then slammed the glass down on the counter.

"Do you want to play  _against_ someone?" Emma asked, sidling up to Graham's side and plastering a smile across her face.

"Are you sure, Deputy?" Graham replied, turning to grin at her. "I never miss."

And although she had asked, she hesitated. Just for a second. Then she reached up and took the dart from his hand, her fingers brushing his. "I'm sure."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Thank you for the kudos/comments/subscriptions! I hope you enjoy the chapter :)

**Chapter 6**

Apparently, being released from hospital was worthy of a party. Emma had only been invited because of her part in the rescue of David Nolan, but when she arrived and saw the large crowd of people she didn't recognise, she wasn't sure if attending was the best plan.

Henry was there, but at the moment, he was attached firmly to his mother's side, Regina's arm around him, as she spoke to the guests. The other people Emma knew were standing in the same crowd, Graham by Regina's shoulder and Killian Jones talking with Kathryn. She  _would_ have talked to them, at least to Graham, but Emma wouldn't put it past Regina to be stand-offish even in such a social situation, and she didn't want to ruin David's party.

If only Mary-Margaret had come with her. The teacher  _had_ been invited, but after whatever had happened at the hospital, something Mary-Margaret still wouldn't tell Emma, she seemed reluctant to have any contact with the former John Doe.

But Emma knew Henry would be here, so she'd come alone.

At least she didn't seem to feel as uncomfortable as David Nolan, who looked utterly confused and overwhelmed.

Emma watched for a while, until Regina and Kathryn split from the crowd and Jones seemed to take it upon himself to stay with David. With his adoptive mother gone from the room, Henry immediately joined Emma, distracting her from watching Jones joking around with David.

"Having fun, kid?" she asked, looking away from Jones when Henry sat down beside her on the hall bench. Henry simply shrugged in response. "Yeah. It's not the most exciting party, but we don't want David to be too astounded by everything, do we?"

"Adult parties are boring." Henry stated, making Emma laugh. And maybe Jones turned to look at her when she did, but Emma refused to acknowledge it. "There's not even cake."

"But there  _are_ cocktail sausages." Emma pointed out, able to see the spread of food through the kitchen door. "So it could be worse."

Henry looked from her to the kitchen and turned back to face her with a wide grin. "So, you know why he doesn't remember?" Henry asked, and Emma shot him a questioning look. "The curse isn't working on him yet."

Of  _course_  that was Henry's reasoning. "Henry, David has amnesia."

"Which is preventing the curse from replacing his fairy tale story with fake memories." Henry clarified, causing Emma to force herself  _not_ to roll her eyes. She couldn't disillusion him, and after Henry's adventure in the mines only days before, she didn't want to say anything that could send him off looking for proof again.

"Right." she answered instead, as if she believed him. "Because everyone here has fake stories that prevent them from remembering who they really are."

"Right." Henry repeated, his voice lowering to a whisper so Emma had to lean closer to hear. She supposed talking loudly about a secret operation probably wasn't a good idea, no matter how ridiculous. "And now's our chance to help him. We just have to get him to remember that he's-"

"Prince Charming." Emma finished, glancing back into the main room to see if she could spot the so-called prince anywhere, noticing he was now deep in discussion with Dr Whale.

"We just have to jog his memory," Henry instructed, and Emma raised an eyebrow. "by getting him and Miss Blanchard together."

"Didn't we just try that?" Emma pointed out, hoping to dissuade him from the plan because match-making his teacher and a coma patient was one thing, but now they knew David Nolan was a married man, and it felt wrong to  _still_ be attempting to set them up.

"And it woke him up."

God, that plan had backfired. Asking Mary-Margaret had meant to show Henry that his fairy tale theory was nonsense, but now, it was something he used as proof because, as much as Emma hated to admit it, something mysterious  _had_ woken him up.

"You're the ones who saved me, right?" asked David, distracting Henry from the question he had just asked, causing Emma to send him a relieved grin.

"Oh, yeah." Emma answered, standing to talk to the man. Although, her answer wasn't exactly true. Other than finding the video tape, she hadn't been particularly useful, traipsing through the forest with Jones and then watching Mary-Margaret bring David back. "I guess."

"And, uh, you're also the only ones I know here." David said awkwardly, gesturing through the doorway to the crowded room.

Emma grimaced, sympathising with him. She barely knew anyone either, but at least she wasn't supposed to. It would be far worse to have people know you when you couldn't even remember their names. "You can hide with us."

"Fantastic." David said, cheering up at her response. Before he could sit down with them, one of Kathryn's hired waiters approached them, offering out a plate of chopped carrots and cheese cubes. "Oh, thank you."

David picked up a toothpick and stabbed one of the carrots, twirling it between his fingers. Henry beamed up at him, his eyebrows furrowed curiously. "So, you ever use a sword?"

"I'm sorry?" David asked, chuckling and then glancing at Emma as though waiting for an explanation. Emma just shrugged. "Emma, you live with Mary-Margaret, right? You know if she's coming tonight?"

"No, she couldn't make it."

"Oh." David mumbled, looking downcast. He attempted to make small talk for a few more minutes, clearly distracted. Then with a quick goodbye, Emma watched David stride away, through the crowd of people and out of the house.

"I bet he's going to find Snow White." Henry told her, and Emma just nodded.

Henry then spotted the cocktail sausages, on a large plate on the dining table, and he took off without a word, Emma trailing behind him and watching with a laugh as the kid took a handful of them and then a can of coke. She followed him past Graham, who was conversing with an old woman about the local speed limits, hesitating slightly when she saw Henry stop in front of Dr Whale.

Just  _what_ was Henry going to ask him about now?

She arrived beside him in time to hear him ask Whale, for what had to be the twentieth time, if there was any explanation for David's awakening. Whale chuckled before turning an appreciative eye towards Emma, "Hello, Deputy."

Emma replied with a tight smile, turning when she saw the doctor's gaze shift so he was looking behind her. Looking at Jones. "I forgot that you were officially a deputy now, Swan." the pawnbroker stated, holding out his hand to show the two wine glasses in his hand. "Want a drink?"

She hesitated just long enough for Dr Whale to pluck the glass from Jones' hand and take a swig. and Jones glanced down at the floor. She swallowed, wondering if the offer was more than just a drink, if it had been an attempt to get rid of the atmosphere that had surrounded them since she'd had him arrested.

She'd screwed that up.

"Yeah, that's me. Deputy Swan." she told him with a shrug, watching Jones chug down his own glass of wine.

"Do I need to worry about spending another night behind bars?" Jones said, his tone too bitter for Emma to take it as a joke. She stammered, unsure what to say, especially with Dr Whale and Henry an audience to their conversation and then exhaled in relief when she saw Kathryn approaching them.

"Have you seen David?" The woman asked, and Emma looked at her son, knowing that they'd both seen David escaping the party only five or so minutes earlier.

"Um, he…" Emma started, still thrown by Jones' comment and also not wanting to make Kathryn look any more upset than she already did.

"No." Whale answered bluntly, and Emma, for the first time, was actually thankful for his presence. Kathryn blinked a few times, turned her head away and then mumbled something in reply, walking away from them and returning to the kitchen.

The four of them then stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, until Henry asked Whale who he thought he would be if he was a fairy tale character. Dr Whale didn't know, but seemed willing to keep chatting with the kid, suggesting a variety of heroes that Henry kept rebuffing.

She felt someone nudge her arm, and she knew it had to be Jones. She looked back at him, breath catching at the apologetic, sincere look in his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that you're staying. The deputy can't exactly leave without giving at least a week's notice."

"I don't intend to leave." she told him.

He was so very handsome when he smiled at her.

~~~*~~~

Emma had only stayed at the party until Regina had taken Henry home. Although she had tried not to leave immediately after Henry, she'd lasted only five minutes before muttering a quick goodbye to Kathryn and then making her way towards the door.

Jones had stopped her on her way, wearing his own leather jacket as though intending to leave. "On your way home, Swan?" He had asked, and she'd only nodded in reply.

And now they were walking along main street, side by side.

Jones was going a very long way to the docks, so Emma was certain he was walking this way to spend time with her. After the uncomfortableness of their previous conversations, she hadn't expected this, but she would admit,  _maybe_ , that she was glad that he still wanted her company.

But they weren't talking. Emma had the feeling they  _wouldn't_ be talking until she apologised, because he'd reached out so many times and she'd done nothing. He'd invited her to the bar, and, yes, she'd gone but he didn't know that.

Because she'd walked away before talking to him.

And today, it had been her fault that the awkwardness had kept going. But Emma wasn't good at apologies, she didn't  _like_ apologies. She didn't even know how to start, so she didn't.

They both stopped walking when they reached the entrance to the apartments, because they were watching David Nolan moving away from the apartment, his shoulders slumped and his expression miserable. The man seemed not to notice the two of them, even as he strode past them.

"Well, this is me." Emma said quietly, because now that they were just  _standing_ together, she needed to leave. "Thanks, I guess, for walking back with me."

"You're welcome, Swan." Jones replied, tilting his head and inching just a bit closer. "After all, a deputy like yourself is bound to busy. I have to find time with you when I can."

"Time with me?" she asked quietly, her gaze darting down when she felt his hand close gently around her wrist, his thumb brushing her pulse. "What?"

"I want to know you, Emma." He whispered, as though there were other people around who might hear them, except Emma knew there wasn't. "That is, of course, if you'll let me. After everything, I understand if that's not what you want."

How was he saying such things when she was the one who had messed up everything?

She didn't understand him, because she wasn't someone people wanted to know. And although part of her, and it was a  _small_ part, wanted to apologise and talk to him and know him too, she was pretty certain that once he did know her, it would only be a matter of time before he didn't want to anymore.

And she'd be the one left hurting. Again.

So, instead of responding, Emma swallowed and pulled her arm back, out of his touch, and just nodded at him in goodbye, entering the building without a word to him.

She didn't look back, hurrying up the stairs before she was tempted to, and hoping that Mary-Margaret was in, that David Nolan hadn't been moping so much because she wasn't there.

The teacher was there, scrubbing a plate furiously. "You might want to ease up on that," Emma said wryly, crossing the room to take a seat at the table. "Or that brillo pad might press charges."

Mary-Margaret glanced between Emma and the washing-up and then she shook her head, reaching for another plate. "Dishes were just piling up…"

"This have anything to do with David stopping by?" Emma asked carefully, taking a few slow steps towards the kitchen island and then removing her leather jacket, hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools. "I saw him sulking away when I got back."

"We just, uh…" floundered the teacher, an almost panicked glint in her eye as she increased the speed of her cleaning. "He just…"

"Yeah, I know." Emma interrupted, wanting to stop Mary-Margaret before she got too flustered. "You're both just. And you did the right thing."

"He made a pretty compelling case." Mary-Margaret breathed, still refusing to look away from her chores.

"But he's still married. I know - I was just at the party."

Mary-Margaret nodded, took a deep breath, and then her hand stilled. "What do I do?"

"You need to stop cleaning." Emma instructed. "And have a drink."

She stood from the island, heading to the dining table because she  _knew_ she had put a bottle of whiskey there only a couple of days before, and this was definitely the time to drink it. Mary-Margaret followed her, taking a seat at the table and then looking up at Emma as though she was waiting for advice.

"Here's the thing." Emma stated, screwing the cap off the whiskey and pouring a bit more than one measure into each glass. "I don't know a lot about relationships, other than having many that failed." And she shouldn't be thinking about it, not when Mary-Margaret was looking so miserable and conflicted, but just for a second, she wondered what she would have seen, what expression would have been on his face, if she'd turned back to look at Jones. "But generally speaking, if you think something you want to do is wrong, it is. So you've got to stay strong and he's got to figure out his life."

Emma passed a glass to Mary-Margaret and then raised hers in a toast. "Cheers." Mary-Margaret clinked her glass to Emma's, hesitating before drinking, unlike Emma, who downed the drink instantly.

~~~*~~~

Sometimes, in Storybrooke, she really felt like she had moved into the town and travelled back in time. Once again, Graham had left her alone in the station without a word, and this time, without paperwork.

She'd tried to do work, but there was only so much sorting of Leroy and Lacey's files, the only people that seemed to have been arrested by the Sheriff's station in a very long time, that she could do.

But at least the ancient computer had minesweeper, even if she was terrible at it.

After half an hour though, Emma felt guilty, digging out Lacey's file and starting to familiarise herself with it. That woman had been arrested a  _ridiculous_ number of times, and Killian Jones had bailed her out each and every time.

Hearing the now-familiar sound of Graham's footsteps, she looked even more intently at the file. He did  _not_ need to know about her lack of concentration that day, but when she heard him stop directly beside her, she had to look at him.

Or at the box of doughnuts he was presenting her with.

"Sometimes, clichés are true." Graham said sheepishly, and this was new. He'd never brought her food before, and when she looked from the pastries to his face, she realised  _exactly_ why he was doing it.

"Okay." Emma said, leaning back in her chair to look up at him. "What do you want?"

"Remember when I said no night shifts?" He started, looking up at the ceiling, and Emma knew what he wanted, raising an eyebrow at him as she waited for him to admit it. "I need you to work tonight. Just this once."

"Why?" She whined, because she had wanted an early night before waking early to walk Henry to school.

"I volunteer at an animal shelter, and the supervisor's sick, and someone needs to feed the dogs."

She couldn't really argue with that. "Very lucky you bought a bear claw." she grumbled, reaching out to select the pastry and then taking a bite, keeping her eyes locked on the Sheriff.

"Emma, can I talk to you for a minute?" It was Mary-Margaret, hurrying towards Emma and Graham, and then standing beside the two of them until Graham excused himself and left the girls alone. "He left his wife. David - he left her. He left Kathryn."

"Okay, slow down." Emma warned, because the teacher was talking very fast and looking very excited.

"He did it for me. He wants me to be with him. He wants me to meet him tonight." Mary-Margaret said quickly, pacing from one side of Emma's desk to the other. Emma tried to stop her, to interject and actually discuss things with her, but Mary-Margaret was unstoppable. "I mean, I'm trying so hard to be strong, but he just keeps coming. I mean, how do I stop it? You know, how do I let him down? What would you do?"

"I'd go."

"What?" Mary-Margaret gasped, clasping her hands together and leaning down towards her, looking utterly flabbergasted.

"Well, he left her." Emma explained slowly. Emma remembered being told that she'd been chosen, that she was  _wanted_ , but she also remembered weeks passing with no change. She remembered being told that the choice was impossible, that as much as he loved her, he couldn't pick between her and his wife. "It's one thing to say he wants you, but it's another to actually make a choice and now, he has. That's all you can ask for."

"Given her new friendship with Kathryn, I don't think Regina would be happy."

"All the more reason to do it." Emma mumbled, taking another bite of the bear claw. If  _Regina_ was Mary-Margaret's only attempt to rationalise  _not_ being with David, then Emma couldn't imagine that Mary-Margaret wouldn't be meeting him later.

"Good Lord, is this really happening?"

"You tell me."

Mary-Margaret smiled nervously, Emma taking the opportunity to take another large bite of the pastry. Then Mary-Margaret swallowed, her smile fading into anxious grimace. "What if he remembers? What if one day he remembers and he goes back to Kathryn?"

Emma frowned, because she couldn't predict the future and couldn't even begin to imagine what might happen if David  _did_ remember. But Mary-Margaret liked him, and she knew David seemed to feel the same about the teacher. "I guess sometimes you just have to take a chance, don't you?" Emma asked, a knowing quirk of her lips when Mary-Margaret glanced up at him. "I remember someone telling me that. Perhaps it's time for you to follow that advice."

"Maybe I will." Mary-Margaret said, laughing. "It's paid off so far."

~~~*~~~

As eager as Emma had been to avoid night shifts, it felt  _normal_ to be driving through town when it was dark enough for the street lamps to be lit and the majority of people already locked up in their houses. Storybrooke may not be a bustling city, but it still felt like it used to when she had been a bail bondsperson, just her and a small box of doughnuts on the seat beside her.

She was only avoiding night shifts so that she would definitely be able to get up in time to walk Henry to school. Back when she was working late, getting up at 7am never happened.

One night on the night-shift wouldn't stop her from getting up in time to see her son.

Besides, she'd always found this sort of thing relaxing.

However, when she saw David Nolan and Killian Jones walking along the empty Main Street and chatting like old friends, Emma was curious enough to pull over. After all, David should be meeting Mary-Margaret, not befriending the local pawnbroker. "What are you guys up to?" she asked, rolling down the window and waving at them to get their attention.

"Nothing worthy of an arrest, darling." Jones said, and this time, he  _was_ joking, a smirk plastered across his face. "Dave here was simply a bit astray. I figured the least I could do for our forgetful friend was lead him to where he wants to be."

"I'm not forgetful." David protested with a chuckle. "It's hard to forget something you can't remember."

Jones raised an eyebrow and Emma couldn't quell a laugh. "Right." He turned to Emma, his smile faltering only slightly when he looked at her. "Are you patrolling right now, Swan? I thought this was Graham's shift?"

"He's volunteering at the animal shelter." she explained. "Where are you going?"

"Toll Bridge." David told her, a nervous, excited air to his voice. "I'm meeting someone."

"And yet you're hanging around here talking to me?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't keep Mary-Margaret waiting too long."

"Oh, I won't." David said earnestly, his eyes lighting up when he heard the name of the schoolteacher. "I even asked for directions, but Regina sent me the wrong way."

"Regina did?" Emma questioned, one eyebrow raised. "You'd think that the mayor would know her way around the town."

Jones sighed. "I imagine that she has something on her mind other than the way to the toll bridge." The pawnbroker said with a roll of his eyes. "Perhaps she thought my shop had something Dave needed, or perhaps she simply wanted to delay you on your way to see Mary-Margaret. If so, she'll be rather disappointed to find out my part in this romantic interlude."

"Why would Regina care?" David said, looking at Emma as though she would be able to give an answer. "It's not any of her business."

"Regina likes to believe everything is her business." Jones pointed out, and Emma nodded angrily in agreement. "However, I do enjoy disagreeing with her sometimes. It keeps our acquaintance more exciting. At least for me. "

He grinned winningly at Emma, and Emma had to admit she was amused by his apparent disregard for whatever Regina had wanted him to do, and sending David towards Jones' shop was clearly a sign that Regina wanted him to do  _something_.

"Well, I should probably get on my way." Emma said reluctantly, because she was actually enjoying this conversation. With David around, the awkwardness seemed to have gone and she was so thankful for that, even though she was certain that the atmosphere would return to normal the instant David left. "And so should you. I don't want come home to Mary-Margaret and find out you missed each other."

"You're right." David said, turning an urgent look towards Jones. "We can't stay here talking when I have someone very important to meet."

"Indeed." Jones agreed, and then he nodded in goodbye, walking away without a word.

Maybe David's presence wasn't enough to fix  _everything_.

"See you around, Emma." David said cheerily, giving her a wave and then running after the pawnbroker. She watched them until they turned the corner, David clearly talking eagerly to Jones.

Finally, when they were completely out of sight, she wound the window back up and continued her patrol. Maybe she'd find something, maybe not, but either way, patrolling was bound to be better than sitting alone in the apartment.

~~~*~~~

Emma could  _not_ believe that her only encounter on her patrol was with the Sheriff himself. She'd caught him climbing out of the window of the mayor's house, tie undone and shirt only half-buttoned, and her first thought had been 'This is  _not_ the animal shelter'.

Well, her first thought  _after_ hitting him in the stomach with her baton.

"This is volunteering?" She asked angrily, refusing to offer him a hand up.

"Plans changed." He grunted. "Regina needed me to -"

"Sleep with her?" Emma interrupted, looking from Graham to the dark windows of the mayor's house.

"No."

"Why were you sneaking out the window?" As answers went, Graham's had been pretty poor, and she couldn't think of any other reason for such subterfuge.

She just wanted to know the truth. She didn't care whether or not he was sleeping with Regina. In fact, as distasteful as the thought was, the idea of Graham and Regina definitely made her feel less than whatever she had felt when she saw Jones and Lacey a few days earlier.

Not that she had felt anything then.

"Because…" Graham muttered, pausing when he tried to think of a reason. "She didn't want Henry to know."

"You did this with Henry in the house?" Emma replied thoughtlessly, before shutting her mouth and choosing just to scowl at Graham.

She had nothing against parents having sex once their children were asleep, but it was the first protestation that came to mind.

"He's sleeping. He doesn't know."

"Well, good for him." Emma snapped, tossing the car keys at Graham and turning to leave. She heard him call after her, something about actually working at an animal shelter, but Emma couldn't find it in herself to listen. "You can finish my shift. I'm done working nights."

She stormed away, leaving Graham alone with the car. His lies  _hurt_ , especially because she had never realised, had accepted his vague excuses and, as much as she hated to admit it, she had  _trusted_ him.

She had trusted him because she didn't think he  _could_ hurt her. It was why she had chosen to spend time with him, because he was kind and funny and attractive but she didn't  _want_ him, and that meant he didn't have the power to hurt her.

It was all the lies that hurt, because there was no reason for him to have kept such a secret. They were both adults, and Emma could care less about who he was sleeping with.

What angered her most was that he'd given her  _his_ night shift so he could be with Regina. He had been mysteriously late for enough shifts, he shouldn't have needed to rearrange Emma's schedule so that he could cater to Regina.

About to pass the Rabbit Hole, she hesitated and then strode into the establishment, deciding that getting a few drinks was much better than waiting for Mary-Margaret. Besides, she could probably use a few drinks.

The bar was emptier than her last few visits, but it was a Monday night so she wasn't too surprised. Sidney Glass was nowhere in sight, but Emma paused in the entranceway when she saw Killian Jones at the bar, phone at his ear and Lacey at his side. This time, however, Lacey seemed far more occupied with a man that Emma had never seen before, completely wrapped around him and seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortableness emanating from Jones.

And maybe she had only wanted a drink before, but now that she could see Jones, she decided that it was time to apologise.

Right now, she actually  _wanted_ to, because perhaps she could talk to him. Part of her wondered if he would understand, and for some reason, she really hoped he did.

Emma crossed the room to sit beside Jones, a smile spreading across her face when she saw him notice her, saw the way his expression softened and he tilted his head, his stare on her until she was next to him.

"I can't read minds, Regina." He said into the phone, and Emma could hear a faint buzz of protest from the other end of the line. "I can't do what you want if you don't tell me what that is. Now, I have more important business to attend to."

He hung up without another word, slid the large old phone into his jacket and then twisted on his seat so he had better view of Emma.

"I guess sex doesn't make the mayor any more agreeable." Emma stated with a grin, which widened when the pawnbroker chuckled.

"Unfortunately not." Jones agreed, running a finger along the rim of his drink. "I suppose you've found out about her and the Sheriff then?" Emma simply nodded, and she couldn't figure out why the man's smile faded. "Is that why you're here?"

"No." she answered bluntly, because maybe it had been what had driven her to the bar, but the only reason she was staying was Jones. "I'm actually here to apologise."

"For arresting me?"

"Not exactly." Emma admitted. "Maybe. What I'm most sorry for is that I didn't give you a chance to explain before dragging you to the station. I shouldn't have assumed that you were the one who made such a deal, and I should have let you talk."

"Apology accepted." Jones said immediately, his grin returning. "I know the truth about the contract is impossible to explain, so I can't fault you for coming to the conclusion that you did."

"I should have given you a chance to persuade me otherwise." Emma replied, watching him take a swig of his drink. "I should have trusted my gut, because I knew you weren't lying and I-."

"We could keep discussing this for who knows how long." Jones interrupted. "Or, I could buy you a drink and we could talk about you?"

Emma hesitated, because she didn't usually let  _anyone_ buy her a drink, but with him, she didn't really care. "Alright."

He ducked his head, scratching behind his ear, and then ordering two glasses of rum. They were served quickly, and then he led Emma away from the bar, away from Lacey and whoever it was she was kissing.

"Lacey seems busy." Emma commented as she followed him past the jukebox into a dimly-lit corner, taking a seat at a small table for two.

"Yes. It appears that her and Keith are together today." Jones told her with a shrug, looking over Emma's shoulder to the couple. "Tomorrow, they'll probably be fighting. And then the day after, they'll be doing _that_ again. But, please, let's not talk about Lacey. Instead, why don't you tell me what a bail bondsperson is? I'm not familiar with the profession."

"Well, it's not exactly a job that's needed in Storybrooke." Emma told him, leaning her elbows on the table so that she was closer to him. "But basically, I put up some of the money for bail and then, if the convict doesn't return for their court date, I get to hunt them down."

"Sounds  _exciting_." he said, a slightly leery smile on his face for only a second before it faded back into his comforting, warm grin. "Far more interesting than running a shop anyway."

"You said you  _had_ to run the shop. Why?" she asked, balancing the glass in her hand and smiling over at him. "What would do if you had the choice?"

Jones pressed his lips together, clearly deep in thought. "There are things in that shop that shouldn't be left unattended. Things that mean too much to the town, and to the mayor, for the job to go to someone that Regina doesn't trust." He said carefully. "Given the choice, however, I'd love to sail."

"Like on a yacht? Or on something like the ship you live on?"

"Something like?" Jones said, frowning at her as though he was offended. "There is  _no_ ship like The Jolly Roger."

"The Jolly Roger? Really?"

He chuckled again, shaking his head in amusement. "Unfortunately, I'm stuck in Storybrooke for the foreseeable future, so any substantial sailing trips seem unlikely."

"Stuck?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, I imagine there are a few people who would hunt me down if I left. Besides, I can't leave Storybrooke with my acquaintance still in the hospital."

"No improvement?" Emma asked quietly, and for a second, she considered reaching out to him, but from the look on his face, it wasn't comfort he needed.

"He  _is_ improving." Jones said, his lip curling and a darkness entering his eyes. "He's had issues with his memory and I believe that he's remembering. Others tell me that's impossible."

"And remembering is a bad thing?"

"For me, yes." Jones muttered, swirling around the remnants of his rum and then looking at the empty glass in Emma's hand. "Do you want another drink?"

Emma smiled at him, reaching out to take his glass. "This round's on me."

~~~*~~~

It was very late by the time Emma returned to the apartment. She had stayed at the Rabbit Hole for longer than she thought, the conversation with Jones lightening after she returned with the drinks. They'd spent hours talking, Emma telling him stories of her time as a bail bondsperson and Jones returning with funny stories about ridiculous things that the townspeople got up to. They hadn't mentioned anything too personal, and once she'd realised that Jones wasn't going to attempt to ask anything along those lines, she'd found it easy to relax.

She'd had a really good night, and she hadn't expected that.

Mary-Margaret, surprisingly, was still awake. Emma had jumped, startled, when she'd heard the teacher greeting her, spotting the woman sat at the kitchen island, a mug of hot cocoa cradled in her hands.

She was smiling ridiculously widely. "He was there." Mary-Margaret said quietly, and Emma assumed she meant David. "He was there and he  _chose_ me. He kissed me."

"I heard." Emma told her, shrugging off her leather jacket and heading towards the stairs. "David seemed pretty excited when I saw him earlier. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Mary-Margaret said, taking a sip of the drink. "I didn't think it would work out. I was  _certain_ he would change his mind, but he didn't."

The two of them didn't talk for much longer, Mary-Margaret insisting on them both going to bed once Emma was unable to quell a yawn. It was nearing three in the morning by the time Emma had changed into her pyjamas and settled into her bed, and just before she turned off her bedside light, her phone vibrated and she reached for it.

_**I'm glad we cleared the air. I hope we can meet up for another drink sometime. -KJ** _

She read the text a few more times, and then turned off the screen of her phone, putting it facedown on the side table.

She didn't reply, not because she didn't know what to say, but because she didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know what she wanted. Not with him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments/kudos/bookmarks! I'm glad you seem to be enjoying this fic, and hope you all like this chapter! Thank you the Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 7**

Emma felt as though she was spending far too much time out drinking, either at the Rabbit Hole or at Granny's. However, with Mary-Margaret's new relationship with David Nolan came time alone in the apartment. Emma was good at being alone. She was  _used_ to it. Except, now that she didn't  _have_ to be, now that she had Mary-Margaret, there was something  _lonely_ about an empty apartment.

So when Mary-Margaret announced she was going on a second date with David, only a day after the first, Emma resigned herself to another night out. But not at the Rabbit Hole. As much as she wanted to, because Jones would likely be there, and  _that_ was a thought she was going to ignore, she couldn't go and have another several glasses of rum. Not after doing exactly that the day before.

One glass of whiskey at Granny's, a drink that always made her slightly lethargic, and then she'd go to bed.

After last night with Jones, and her early morning walk with Henry to Storybrooke Elementary, an early night would be a nice indulgence. Maybe she could even have a bubble bath and read a book, a luxury she hadn't treated herself to in what felt like years.

When she walked into the diner, the first thing she saw was Graham, his back to her as he focused on the dart board. She halted in place, not sure what to do. She'd spent the day avoiding him, unsure what she could say after their encounter the previous night, and Emma was terrified that she'd left it so long that it looked like more than what it was.

Because  _really_ , he could sleep with whoever he wanted as long as he didn't make up excuses to abandon Emma at the station all day.

Unfortunately, every single place in Storybrooke seemed to have a bell, and Emma's entrance had triggered it, and she simply stood there as Graham turned to look at her.

She didn't need this now and she had whiskey in the apartment.

She spun on her heel and made to leave, but a dart flew past her cheek, burying itself in the wooden frame of the door and vibrating furiously. "What the hell?" she spat, twisting to glare at the sheriff. "You could have hit me."

"You know I never miss." Graham reminded her, placing his empty glass down on Ruby's tray, the waitress hovering next to him. "You've been avoiding me since last night, when you saw me-"

"Leaving the mayor?" Emma interrupted with a harsh chuckle. "And yes, that is a euphemism. I'm not avoiding you, Graham. I just have no interest in having this conversation."

She didn't give him an opportunity to respond, leaving the diner and slamming the door before Graham had the chance to make more of a scene in front of the other customers. She only got a few paces down the street, back towards the apartment, when she felt Graham's hand close around her wrist, pulling her to a halt.

"What the hell?" she asked again, tugging her hand back angrily. "Look, Graham, please. I really don't care."

"If you don't care, why are you so upset?" he questioned, and he looked drunk, desperate, and Emma didn't know what response he expected.

"I'm upset because you  _lied_ to me." she answered bluntly. "Because of all the times where you were mysteriously not at work and you could never give a reason. Because you thought you needed to lie and tell me you were working at the animal shelter as though we weren't adults who could handle the truth. What? Did you think I'd be mad because you're with  _Regina_? I'm not petty. I might not like her but it's not going to change what I think about you. Not the way all the lying did."

Graham swallowed and stepped back, giving her a searching look as though he doubted her response. Emma had meant every word, and she wanted him to know that. She wanted him to know that she wasn't  _jealous_ , not like he had implied. And yes, maybe she had danced with the idea of being with him, but that was because a relationship with him would never mean enough to really devastate her when it fell apart.

She didn't know when she'd given up on that idea, but she didn't want anything more with Graham.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to know." He admitted, tangling his fingers together and fidgeting awkwardly. "I didn't want  _anyone_ to know. You don't know what it's  _like_ with her. I don't feel anything. Can you understand that?"

Emma sighed, feeling her annoyance drain away when she saw the look of confusion and despair on the Sheriff's face. "Yeah, I understand bad relationships." she said with a sigh. "And maybe it's not my place, but if it's really that bad, if you really feel  _nothing_ , then leave her."

Graham shook his head and then inched closer to Emma. "Look, maybe I should have told you back when you took the job. I know you and Regina have issues. And, I just… well, I was worried you would look at me the way you're looking at me now."

"Why do you care how I look at you?" she asked warily, glancing cautiously around the street to see who else might be privy to this conversation.

There were a few people strolling along the street, and Emma could see a few silhouettes outside Mr Gold's pawnbroker's, but she was too far away to make out any features. From the height difference, she guessed that it was Jones and Lacey, and the way the third person was wrapped around Lacey, she figured it might be Keith.

"Because," Graham's one word drew her attention back to him, Emma meeting his gaze with a frown.

"What?"

The Sheriff didn't answer, surging forward and cupping Emma's face, his lips on hers. It wasn't  _right_ , she didn't want it, so she shoved at him, kneeing him in the crotch so that he was forced to stumble backwards, groaning in pain.

"What the  _hell_ was that?" she snarled.

Graham looked dazed, still wincing when he straightened up. "Did you see that?"

"How much have you been drinking?" she asked, taking a couple of steps away from him as a precaution. "That was  _way_ over the line."

"Sorry, I just-"

"What?" Emma interrupted. "Just what?"

"I need to  _feel_ something." Graham cried, reaching out for Emma as though looking for comfort, but Emma was done, shoving his hand away before he could make contact.

"Listen to me, Graham." She said sternly, trying to be sympathetic through her annoyance. "You're drunk and full of regret. I get it. Whatever it is you're looking for, I'm sorry, but you're not getting it with me. Go  _home_  and sleep it off. We can talk tomorrow."

Graham stood still, but Emma walked away, crossing the street to get away from him, and finding herself hoping that Jones hadn't seen.

~~~*~~~

Emma had managed to sleep, but had woken with the sunrise, Graham's words to her constantly repeating in her mind.

She didn't know what to do. She had let him in, allowed him to know her more than she would usually allow, and she had trusted him. He had been her friend.

And now he had kissed her, had tried to feel something with  _her_ , and Emma had no idea how to fix anything because she didn't want to lose his friendship, didn't want to  _hurt_ him, but she couldn't let him think there was anything more to their relationship.

Maybe, last night, she had made it clear enough.

She wandered downstairs once it was light, wishing that she was still curled up under her blanket, still asleep, because with Regina taking Henry to school today, there was no reason for her to be up so early.

There was a bouquet of flowers sat on the table. Emma didn't know what type they were, but they were white and pretty and  _clearly_ an apology for something. Curiously, she reached for them, lifting them to see a small handwritten note underneath.

Putting the flowers to the side, she gave in to her curiosity and picked up the torn paper, her eyebrows rising in surprise when she read the message.

_Thank you for a wonderful night. I'm sorry I had to leave before you woke up, but I have an interview at the animal shelter._  
Hope you like the flowers,  
David

"Before you woke up?" Emma said out loud, amusement clear in her voice. "Was David  _here_ last night?"

"Emma!" protested Mary-Margaret, hurrying out from her room, face red with embarrassment. "That note wasn't for you."

"It also wasn't well hidden." Emma pointed out, passing the paper to Mary-Margaret and watching fondly as the teacher cradled the note to her chest, as though it was the most precious thing in the whole apartment. "You guys were quiet. I had no idea."

"Yes, well," stammered Mary-Margaret, finally placing the note back on the counter and busying herself with sorting out the flowers. "We didn't want to wake you."

"And I'm very thankful for that." Emma said, noticing how Mary-Margaret was taking just a bit too long with the flowers. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Mary-Margaret said unconvincingly, and then she shrugged, the flowers now beautifully arranged in a vase, and took a seat next to Emma. "I am. I just can't help wondering if maybe it was too soon. I mean, he only chose me a couple of days ago. He's still married to Kathryn and there's still a chance that he could remember and leave."

Emma sighed, reaching out to stop Mary-Margaret's fidgeting. "But for now, he wants you." she reminded, hoping that it would comfort her friend. "Besides, it was good, right? And he bought you flowers."

"He  _did_  buy me flowers." Mary-Margaret agreed, pulling the vase in front of her and inhaling the sweet smell of the blossoms. "And yes, it was good. More than good. It's been a while for me. For both of us. I had forgotten how wonderful it could be. Or maybe, it's just wonderful with him. And you're judging me, aren't you?"

"Not at all!" Emma insisted, hoping that Mary-Margaret would stop her nervous blabbering and foot-tapping. "Really. You went on a couple of dates with a guy and then you slept with him. There's nothing wrong with what you did. Really. Besides, one-nighters are as far as I ever go, so I'm in no place to judge."

"Well, yeah, but that's because you're-" Mary-Margaret trailed off, standing from the stool and starting to get ready for school, as though she hadn't just started a comment that Emma desperately wanted her to finish.

"Because I'm what?"

"Never mind." Mary-Margaret mumbled, not even looking at Emma as she donned a beret and a thick woollen scarf.

"Yeah?" Emma asked, spinning on the stool to fix Mary-Margaret with an angry look. "Tell me. What do I do?"

"You're just protecting yourself." Mary-Margaret explained. "With that wall you put up."

"Just because I don't get emotional over men-" Emma started, faltering when she saw Mary-Margaret's doubtful look, the woman's eyebrows raised and her arms folded. For a second, Emma honestly felt like she was talking to her teacher - or her  _mother_  - and Emma had to look away, glancing down at the floor. "Look, there's nothing wrong with being cautious."

"Oh, true." Mary-Margaret sighed. "True. But, Emma, that wall of yours? It may keep out pain, but it also may keep out love."

Emma swallowed, unsure what to say in response, watching as the teacher left the apartment.

Maybe she  _did_ have a wall, but she hadn't always. She'd built it up after years of letting people in and being let down, and that was something Mary-Margaret didn't understand.

Mary-Margaret had been on a few failed dates before finding David Nolan, and maybe that relationship was new, but there was  _something_ between them. Emma had never been drawn to someone the way they were drawn to each other.

She'd only been used and abandoned and  _hurt_. She'd rather keep out love than suffer through that same pain again.

~~~*~~~

Emma had alphabetized the files and made several attempts at a new high score on minesweeper by the time of her lunchbreak. At times like this, she had to admit that Henry's idea of a cursed town was slightly appealing, if only to make her hours at work more interesting and involved.

There wasn't even enough paperwork to last much longer than a few hours, and since her first day as deputy, there hadn't even been a single arrest.

Graham hadn't even shown up for work. Perhaps he was hung-over, which Emma wouldn't be surprised at after the previous evening, or perhaps he was simply avoiding her, but either way, she wasn't going to sit around and starve at the station, especially when she assumed the Sheriff was spending his time off with Regina.

She forwarded all calls to her phone, just in case, then she left the building, making sure to lock the main door.

She  _really_ wanted a grilled cheese.

And she wanted a break from reading Leroy and Lacey's names and their various crimes.

Perhaps it was her talk with Mary-Margaret that led to her ordering two grilled cheeses and one side of onion rings and then taking them down the road with the intention of spending her hour off with Killian Jones.

Because why not? If Mary-Margaret could take a chance with David Nolan and have it work out the way it did, maybe there was still hope for Emma.

Not that she was intending on  _taking a chance_ with Jones, but she didn't want to have lunch by herself.

She paused outside the shop, because past the 'Open' sign and the unclosed blinds, she could see Jones. He wasn't alone, Regina was on the other side of the counter, and the two of them were clearly involved in a conversation.

She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop, but at the same time, she wanted,  _desperately_ , to know what they were talking about. She pushed the door open slightly, very careful not to ring the small bell she knew was located just beside the door, and then she listened.

"I'm still waiting on an explanation as to why you let David Nolan walk out of here without the windmill." Regina snarled, but Jones only chuckled in response, absently turning the sails of the miniature windmill he had beside him on the counter. "Don't you know what will happen if he doesn't remember?"

"I've found, Regina, that I don't really care." Jones said with a shrug. "As for my explanation, how many times do I have to repeat it? I was unaware that the windmill may have helped with Dave's memories. All I knew was that he was lost and needed directions."

"Directions to  _her._ " Regina hissed, and Emma was surprised by how unruffled Jones looked in the face of the mayor's temper. "I have done you so many favours and you mess  _this_ up?"

"Trust me, my dear, you have done me no favours." Jones replied, his eyes narrow and his entire expression dark. "We may have compromised on a few important things, but you have never done a single thing to benefit  _me_."

"Trust  _me_. If David Nolan remembers anything other than his life with Kathryn, how soon do you think things will start to fall apart?" Regina said, leaning across the counter and reaching out to stop Jones from toying with the windmill. "How soon do you think  _he_ will remember? And who do you think will face the consequences when he does? Because I can assure you that it won't be me."

She'd listened too long. The take-out was cooling in her hands, and she didn't have a long enough lunch-break to waste time listening to Regina and Jones.

So she pushed the door fully open and stepped inside, Regina twisting to look at her the second the bell began to ring.

"Swan?" Jones asked, and Emma grinned at him. "What a nice surprise."

"I thought I'd bring you lunch." Emma admitted nervously, holding up the paper bag with the Granny's logo printed on it. "If you're not busy, that is."

"I'm not." Jones said smoothly, pushing the windmill to the side so that there was room on the counter and appearing to completely disregard Regina's presence.

Apparently, Regina wasn't going to stand for that. "Our tax dollars hard at work, I see." she drawled, purposefully knocking a few books off the counter as she strode towards Emma.

"I'm on my lunch break." Emma told her with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not  _meant_ to be at work. Unlike Graham, who I assumed was taking a sick day. With you."

"Oh, so you're aware of us?" Regina asked, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Good. I'm also aware of  _your_ relationship with him."

There was a clatter, and Emma looked away from Regina to see Jones ducking behind the counter, as though he'd dropped something. "Look, I don't  _have_ a relationship with him. Not the relationship you seem to think I have, anyway."

"Oh?" Regina asked, looking even more pleased with herself as she glanced from Emma to the pawnbroker. "So, nothing's ever happened between you two? You forget, Miss Swan, I have eyes everywhere."

Emma swallowed, because she  _hated_ that Regina was doing this now. She didn't want Jones to know about Graham's drunken actions the night before, even though she refused to understand why. "Nothing that meant anything."

"Well, of course not." Regina stated. "Because you're incapable of feeling anything for anyone. There's a reason you're alone, isn't there?"

"Regina, that's enough." Jones was standing straight again, fury written all over his expression, and Emma gaped at him, because she didn't know how to respond to his words. "You're out of line."

Regina cackled, actually cackled, once again looking between Emma and Jones as though she was staring at one of the funniest things she'd seen in a while. When she met Emma's gaze, however, her face hardened. "Stay away from Graham." she ordered. "You may think you're doing nothing, but you're putting thoughts in his head. Thoughts that are not in his best interest. You are leading him on a path to self-destruction. Stay away."

Regina pushed past Emma as she left the shop, knocking Emma into a display of various antique toy robots, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Self-destruction?" Emma repeated bemusedly as she righted herself, looking up and swallowing when she realised Jones had moved so he was standing just in front of her. "What is she  _on_?"

"I don't believe anyone will ever discover the answer to that." Jones answered quietly, reaching out to steady her, his hand warm on her shoulder, and then taking the paper bag from her. "Now, how about we forget all of that unpleasantness and have that lunch you mentioned?"

"Oh, right." Emma said, nervous now that they were alone and they were having  _lunch_. And  _why_  had this been a good idea? "Yeah, I just figured you might be free and I didn't want to eat by myself and I don't even know if you  _like_ grilled cheese so maybe I'll just take that and go back to the station."

"I like grilled cheese." Jones said simply, moving to sit on the counter and then gesturing for Emma to join him. "And I'm always free for you, love."

Emma smiled anxiously at him, but decided not to run. She couldn't, not now that he was laying the food out on the counter and picking at the onion rings as though this lunch had been  _planned_.

So she just sat next to him and started on her own sandwich without a word.

"I do feel like I should apologise for Regina." Jones said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "But I also have a feeling that wouldn't do any good."

"You're right about that." Emma grumbled, twisting to give him a searching look because he seemed to just know exactly what to say. "Where does she get off, thinking it's her business to tell me about the way I live my life?"

"She likes control." Jones explained. "Not that that's any reason for her behaviour. I assume there may be some jealousy there as well."

"Jealousy?"

I was witness to your dalliance with the Sheriff last night." Jones admitted quietly, and Emma was expecting him to scratch behind his ear, but it didn't stop it being any less endearing. "And I have long been aware of Graham's affair with the mayor. I doubt Regina likes the threat to her relationship."

"The threat?" Emma repeated, rolling her eyes. "There is  _no_ threat. He was drunk, he kissed me and I pushed him away. There's nothing more to it."

"Glad to hear it." Jones said, and it sounded like nothing more than offhand comment, but the sincerity in his eyes was disarming and Emma suddenly found her grilled cheese especially interesting to look at.

"So…" she started stiltedly, watching out of the corner of her eye for him to look away, and only facing him again once he had. "I may have eavesdropped slightly before letting you guys know I was here. What's with the windmill?"

Jones chuckled. "You might make a decent pirate, Swan." he said, and she blinked at him, because surely he wasn't  _praising_ her for listening in. "The short answer, which is the only answer I can give you, is that the windmill previously belonged to David and Kathryn. Regina was hoping that if I forced Dave to buy the thing, he'd remember his life before."

"But you didn't give it to him?"

"I felt no need to force those memories upon him." Jones explained with a shrug. "If he returns to my shop and chooses to purchase the object then I will have no problem with giving it to him. But he seems happy with what he knows now, and who am I to take that from him?"

"You don't think that if you can help him remember, you should?" Emma asked, reaching to take the last onion ring. "Regardless of how happy he seems now?"

Jones didn't answer immediately, stretching his hand out to spin the arms of the windmill again, leaving greasy fingerprints on the wood. "Perhaps I  _am_ helping him. Perhaps I know that his memories, of his life with Kathryn, are not memories of a happy life and not his chance of obtaining a happy ending."

"You know?"

Jones inhaled deeply and then stood, beginning to clear up the wrappers from their lunch. "Perhaps." he said, and Emma watched him move around the shop as he cleaned. "Perhaps not."

Emma sighed, leaning her chin on her hand and simply observed him for a few minutes, an unfamiliar calm filling her as she watched the man wipe down the counter and then carry the windmill through to the backroom.

There was something  _pleasant_ about being with him.

Then she caught sight of the clock and realised her hour with Jones had gone by far too quickly. "I have to go." she called out, and he reappeared from the backroom almost instantly. "I've already been here a bit too long."

"Of course, Swan." he said, beaming at her. "Before you leave, however, may I just say that I've enjoyed your company?"

"I suppose." she answered, still perched on the counter. "If you must."

"I must." he said, striding towards her and suddenly Emma was just a bit too hot. "May I also suggest that I bring you lunch at the station sometime?"

"Oh, uh, actually this was just a one-off." Emma said quickly, jumping from the counter and hurrying over to the door before he could get any closer. He paused, an irritatingly understanding, although slightly disappointed, look gracing his face. "But thanks for the offer. I guess I'll see you around."

"I'm certain you will." He nodded, and Emma was about to leave. She really was. But then her phone rang.

~~~*~~~

It had been Mary-Margaret on the phone, calling to say that Graham had been at the school and had been very ill, but ran away before Mary-Margaret could help. The last words the teacher had said were that they needed to find him.

Emma had told Jones as soon as the phone call ended, telling him that she had to leave immediately.

"What's wrong with him?" Jones had asked, sounding surprisingly urgent. "Did Mary-Margaret tell you?"

"Something about past lives." Emma had replied with a shrug, leaving the shop before the pawnbroker could ask any more. Jones had followed her, locking up his shop and then catching up so he was striding alongside her.

"Past lives?" he repeated, when they came to a stop outside the elementary school. "And he went to talk to  _Mary-Margaret_  about it?"

"Looks that way." Emma told him. "Really, you don't need to help out. Go back to your shop. Perhaps someone will want to buy something. They'll be really disappointed when you're not there."

"They can return another day. They can wait." Jones said, his tone urgent as he gazed in all directions. "Graham can't."

"He's just  _ill_ , Jones." Emma said, reaching out to lay her hand on his arm because he was far too riled up over what was happening. "All we need to do is find him, Then we get him home or to the hospital and everything will be fine."

"I don't know." Jones muttered, his stare locked on Emma's hand. "Regina told me earlier that Graham was acting strange last night. I don't know what's going on, but it could be worse than you think."

"That's why the hospital is an option." Emma pointed out.

Jones shook his head and then carefully brushed her hand away from his arm. "We should split up." he suggested. "We  _need_ to find him, Emma."

Jones walked away before Emma could question his worry, because as ill as Graham could be, surely it wasn't bad enough to warrant such a panic.

He had been  _fine_ yesterday, if a little drunk.

But there was something she had seen in Jones' expression, as though he knew something she didn't, that made her just slightly more desperate to find the Sheriff.

~~~*~~~

Emma had found Graham just outside Regina's house, only after Mary-Margaret had sent her a text mentioning that she may have told Graham about Henry and his book. As insane as Henry's theory was, Graham had appeared convinced. and when Emma ran into him, the Sheriff seemed convinced that he no longer had a heart.

That Regina had taken it.

He'd told Emma a crazy story about a wolf, and although Emma herself had been certain she'd seen the same animal only a couple of weeks before, she'd been told enough times that there  _weren't_ wolves in Storybrooke. And then Graham had said the same thing.

She'd tried to convince him that he was simply hallucinating, because there wasn't a wolf and he  _definitely_ had a heart. She'd attempted to prove it to him, taking his hand in hers and holding them both to his chest, feeling the solid beat of his heart under their hands, under his jacket.

The way he'd looked at her, when she'd done that, had been terrifying because he clearly still felt something and Emma didn't want him to.

But they'd both been distracted when the wolf appeared.

They'd chased the creature for what felt like hours, arriving at the cemetery as the sun began to set, and then despite all her attempts to persuade Graham otherwise, they had ended up breaking into Regina's family morgue and looking for his heart.

The mayor had found them there, and Emma had stood awkwardly behind the Sheriff as he broke up with Regina, telling her that he would rather feel nothing than whatever it was he felt for her, insisting that they were over even after all of Regina's protests.

And then Regina had turned on her, blaming Emma for everything Graham was saying, and Emma had snapped. Graham  _wasn't_ leaving Regina for Emma, but Emma was sick of Regina making out that everything was Emma's fault.

Emma had told her so, had pointed out that she wasn't the problem, that people were  _choosing_ to leave Regina, and that was a pretty heavy hint that the problem was with Regina herself.

Regina had roared in anger and punched Emma in the face, which, admittedly, Emma hadn't expected, but was more than happy to reciprocate. Emma was  _good_ at fighting, had done plenty of it during her years as a bail bondsperson, and if Regina wanted a fight, she was going to get one.

There had been pulled hair, fists thrown, and at one point, Emma had even shoved Regina back into the solid wall of the crypt.

But Graham had pulled the two of them apart, and Regina wasn't  _worth_ enough to keep fighting, so Emma had just left.

And now Emma and Graham were back at the Sheriff station. She sat on her desk, the skin near her eye throbbing and sore. Regina must have managed to get her with a ring or something, because she'd definitely broken the skin, and Graham was fussing far too much over a simple injury.

But it  _was_ nice to have someone care about her.

"I'm sorry." Graham said eventually, after he'd found a small bandage in the first aid kit. "I don't know what came over me. I kind of lost my mind."

"It's okay." Emma said sincerely. "You were tired and feverish. And heartbroken?"

Graham nodded, his free hand rising to rub at his chest, just over his heart. "I don't know why I let myself get caught up with her."

"Because it was easy. And safe." Emma said quietly, remembering the short-lived and feeling-free relationship she had gotten involved in during her time in Tallahassee, an attempt to feel anything that was better than the overpowering sense of loss that had taken over her since Phoenix. "Not feeling anything's an attractive option when what you feel  _sucks_." Graham stepped closer to her, dabbing at the small cut with an antiseptic wipe and causing Emma to wince away from him, a forced laugh escaping her. "I felt that."

The Sheriff smiled fondly down at her, his touch gentle as he cleaned her wound, and then he carefully laid a band-aid to it, pressing down lightly. "All better."

"Yeah." Emma said, pulling her head away from his touch, because he was looking at her  _too_ intently and she had no idea what to say. "Thanks."

"Emma?" he said quietly, shifting so he was just as close as he had been before she pulled away. "With you, what I feel doesn't suck."

"Oh." Emma muttered, not sure what to do when she felt his hand on her cheek, his lips moving closer and closer until they were almost brushing hers. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't kiss him. "Wait." She raised her hand to his lips, keeping him away. "I'm sorry, but I don't feel anything more for you. You're a good friend, Graham. A  _great_ friend. But I can't do anything more. And I know you're heartbroken and you're hurting, but I can't kiss you and  _comfort_ you when it won't mean what you want it to."

The Sheriff swallowed and took a large step back, his stare locked on the floor, on his feet. "I had hoped you felt differently, but I understand." he said quietly. "And this won't change anything. I'll be a friend to you, because you're a part of my life I don't want to lose, even if we can't be together the way I had hoped we could be."

"Thank you." Emma said sincerely, leaning over to place a brief, hesitant kiss on his cheek. "I don't want to lose you either."

He smiled for only a second and then he froze, collapsing forward, falling onto the desk and then to the floor, gasping and clutching at his chest, his breath escaping in sharp pants.

"Graham?" Emma cried, bending down and repeating his name, one hand reaching out to grip at her arm, the other still clutching at his heart. "Graham!"

He convulsed one last time and then his hands went limp, his whole  _body_ went limp, and Emma didn't know what to do. She leaned closer, her cheek just above his lips, and she felt a chill run through her when she realised there was no breath.

Graham wasn't breathing.

A sob tore through her body, and she clutched at him, held him tightly for a second, and then lowered him gently to the floor, scrambling to find her phone and dialling 911. She knew she sounded almost incomprehensible, but the woman on the line seemed to gather that she was in the sheriff's station, and an ambulance seemed like it was on it's way.

But all Emma could see was Graham's prone body on the floor of station, and although she wanted to cradle him to her and just  _wish_ him back to consciousness, to  _life_ , she knew it didn't work that way. She fell to her knees beside him, pressing the heels of her hand against his chest desperately, counting the number of chest compressions and then lowering her mouth to his. She made sure his head was tilted back and his nose pinched shut, and she breathed into him.

His chest rose, but he didn't breathe out.

She tried again, repeating the same motions over and over until she heard a commotion outside, until she felt someone's hands firm on her arms, pulling her away.

For a moment, as she watched the doctors swarm around Graham, she panicked, thinking she should call the cops or something, because men like Graham didn't just fall down dead, but then Emma remembered  _she_ was the cops.  _She_ was the only one left, and her throat felt tight and she  _didn't know what to do_.

"I'm sorry, Miss Swan." Emma looked up when she heard Dr Whale's voice, looked from him to the somber, idle medical staff, and she didn't need to hear the words.

She  _knew_ Graham was gone, how could she not, but he shouldn't be.

He shouldn't be covered by a white sheet, but he was.

And Emma didn't know what to do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

** Chapter 8 **

Emma couldn't stand the Sheriff station. Not yet. She had gone to the building only a day after Graham's death and picked up as many files as she could, determinedly avoiding the floor in front of her desk.

Since then, she'd locked herself in the apartment and distracted herself with as much work as she could. Mary-Margaret had tried to talk to her, and Emma was receptive, because the teacher came with mugs of hot cocoa and a kind smile, and it made her feel better.

Henry visited too, only once, but he seemed as downcast as Emma. They'd started to watch a film together, but Henry had run off after half an hour, saying that Regina would know if he was away any longer.

Emma didn't know what to do with herself. She had no idea what she was doing with all the files and the sudden responsibility, even if Storybrooke was quiet enough that she was yet to receive a call.

Worst of all was that she didn't know how to feel. She'd never lost a friend before, had never really  _had_ a friend to lose, and she wasn't sure what to do.

Mary-Margaret had taken charge of the funeral. She had asked Emma to help but Emma couldn't. She just  _couldn't_. Because Emma had no idea what she was meant to organise or say, but what she hated most was that finding someone to organise Graham's funeral had been difficult.

Graham was too kind to have no one, but Emma had barely known him and Regina had point-blank refused to help.

There were only so many files she could read before Emma wanted to just curl up in bed and sleep, except she couldn't do that either, because her dreams were haunted by Graham collapsing forward and grasping at her arm.

She'd read the words 'Lacey' and 'drunk' and 'disorderly' so many times the words were blurred, but Henry was at school and Mary-Margaret was at school and there was absolutely nothing on Mary-Margaret's poor excuse of a television.

She wasn't at all prepared for a knock on the door.

Grumbling, she pushed herself up from her position lounging on the sofa, quickly ran her hands down her hoodie just in case there were crumbs left from the sandwich she'd had earlier, and then opened the door.

It was Jones, two takeaway drinks on a tray that he had balanced in his hand, and a sheepish smile on his face.

"Swan?" he said quietly in greeting, stretching his hand out as though offering the drinks to her. Emma looked at him, absently smoothing her hair down and hoping she didn't have any food on her face. "I would have come to see you earlier but I've been busy."

"Oh," Emma mutters, stepping aside to let him into the loft, and it felt strangely normal to have him there. "Well, it's not like you had any obligation to see me."

His mouth quirked into a small smile, and he headed immediately for the couch, taking a seat among the nest of blankets that Emma had left there and placing the two drinks on the coffee table. "There's a hot cocoa for you. Ruby says you like cinnamon, so I made sure there was some on the top." he said first, and Emma crossed the room to sit beside him, making sure there was a decent distance between them. "And it's not an obligation. I wanted to see you."

Emma stared at him for a few moments and then sent him a muted smile, the first smile she'd given anyone in days. After taking a few sips of the hot cocoa, which was perfect, and pretending she wasn't aware of the soft, sympathetic look that Jones had levelled at her, she turned to face him. "Thanks... for the cocoa."

Jones shrugged. "It was no bother." He inhaled deeply, his hand tapping against his knee, and then his expression grew somber. "Look, Emma, what happened?"

"So that's why you're really here?" she said with a bitter laugh. "Curiosity."

"Not at all." He insisted, and he was being truthful. "Look, I don't know what happened with Graham. Sidney's been pretty quiet about it, probably because of Regina, but I  _do_ know what it's like to lose someone you care for. It's hard, but all you can do is live in the here and now and, before you know it, you're surviving."

Emma swallowed, narrowing her gaze and peering at him, because he wasn't looking at her anymore. His stare was fixed on his hand, his jaw tense and his eyes dim, and she believed, completely, that he understood.

He probably knew what to do better than she did, and she wondered what had happened to him, wondered how many lives he had seen end suddenly and without warning.

Because, from the look on his face, he  _had_ seen death before.

"It wasn't fair." she stammered suddenly, because if he understood, and she truly thought he  _did_ , then she could talk to him. "It was too sudden. A  _heart attack_? That makes no sense!"

She rubbed at her eyes, because she wasn't going to  _cry_ , and then glanced at Jones, frowning when she saw the fury in his gaze, his entire body tense. Emma took a few more sips of the hot cocoa, only to distract herself from looking at him.

His hand was clenching and unclenching, and he seemed to be glancing at her occasionally out of the corner of his eye.

"I, too, have seen a loved one pass the way Graham did." Jones said hesitantly, each word clipped and shaky, and Emma turned her full attention to him. He refused to look at her. "Someone who suffered a… heart attack with no warning. I was never too close to Graham, but I know you were growing to be friends. I came here to tell you I'm sorry and that I understand."

Emma swallowed, her throat full and then, suddenly, something lifted in her chest and everything did seem just a bit more bearable. "Will you go to the funeral with me?" she asked, and she hadn't planned on it, but now that the words were out there, she didn't want to take them back.

Jones just  _stared_ at her, and,  _god_ , why did she even ask? It had been stupid,  _ridiculous_ , to ask because you just  _didn't_ ask people that. Especially when all he had come to do was tell her he was sorry.

Emma could do things by herself.

And then Jones shook his head, not in declination but just as though he was clearing his mind. "Emma?" he asked quietly, and she nodded, because she wasn't going to ask again. "Of course I will."

She swallowed again, resting her elbows on her knees so she could rest her head on her hands, because everything she'd been determinedly  _not_ feeling since Graham had collapsed days before had risen to the surface.

It hurt more when there was someone being so kind and really,  _truly_ understanding,

But she hadn't cried since Graham's death and she wasn't going to cry now, not when Jones was sat beside her and gazing at her as though he was just  _waiting_ for her to break down into tears.

She took in a deep breath, pressed the heels of hands against her eyes and just tried to stop feeling everything because she didn't want to be vulnerable around  _anyone_.

Jones' hand cupped the side of her head gently, pulling Emma towards him so her head was tucked under his chin, her arm trapped between the two of them. She felt him turn towards her, his nose nudging against her hair, and she thought, only briefly, that he was going to kiss the top of her head.

No one had ever done that before, and she couldn't deal with it now.

But he didn't do that. He just held her close for a few more minutes or maybe seconds, Emma couldn't tell.

Then his hand fell back to his side and she rocked away from him, refusing to lean against him for a second longer.

"Thanks." she whispered, and she couldn't look at him. "I'll text you when I know what's happening with the funeral, I guess."

"Whatever's easiest for you, Swan." Jones said, and she felt him stand from the couch and watched his hand finally pick up the remaining drink.

But she refused to watch him leave.

~~~*~~~

The large group of people waiting for Graham's funeral to begin were very quiet, somber, and Emma was glad so many people had chosen to come and pay their respects to the late Sheriff.

She'd never been to a funeral before, and she had to admit it was strange to see so many people wearing black. Some, like Emma and Mary-Margaret, had dressed up for the occasion, in stiff fabrics and dark woollen coats, but others seemed to have chosen to simply darken their usual wardrobe.

Killian Jones fitted into the latter group, the only difference from his usual attire being a solid black shirt underneath his leather vest. He stood woodenly at Emma's side, refusing to take part in the whispered small talk that all the other guests were involved in, his gaze fixed firmly on the entrance to the cemetery.

Emma wondered who he was waiting for, but didn't allow herself to be distracted by thoughts of him. Instead, she murmured quietly with Mary-Margaret and David, whose arm was firm around Mary-Margaret's shoulder.

They didn't talk about anything important.

Jones moved suddenly, striding away from her side, and Emma couldn't help but look after him. He hadn't been particularly good company since they met at the cemetery gates, but she couldn't imagine that he was going to just walk away.

He wasn't leaving. He was standing at the gates, blocking Regina from entering. Excusing herself from Mary-Margaret and David, Emma walked towards them. She didn't want to get too close, not when a fierce sense of curiosity was filling her, and she found herself desperate to know what Jones needed to discuss with the mayor right now.

She shuffled even closer when she saw Jones rest his hand on Henry's shoulder and tug him gently towards him, away from Regina.

"You have no right to be here." Jones said, and he was snarling at the mayor. "I know what you did. Did you think I wouldn't? How dare you show your face here?"

Regina swallowed and took a few steps away from the pawnbroker, her eyes wide and shocked and, although Emma wasn't sure if she was reading the mayor's expression correctly, frightened. "I have to be here." Regina stated, but she didn't sound as commanding as usual. "For Henry."

"Henry has people here who will look after him." Jones replied, as though Henry wasn't even stood there, wasn't fidgeting anxiously at his side. "You're  _not_ needed. And, please, don't try and act as though you're here because of Graham."

Perhaps Emma should step in, because as much as she disliked the mayor, she knew Regina and Graham had been close. Jones had no authority over who attended the funeral, and even if he did, Emma didn't understand why Regina wouldn't be allowed to be there.

"I cared for him." Regina insisted, clearly thinking along the same lines as Emma when she just raised an eyebrow at Jones. "I have  _every_ right to be here. You, however, do  _not_ have the power to turn me away."

Jones stiffened, his shoulders tense and his fist clenched, and then he exhaled loudly and began to steer Henry away from his adoptive mother. Henry followed him, the two of them halting when they saw Emma only feet away.

Henry darted across to her, and it was instinctive to put her arm around his shoulder and hold him to her side. Jones gulped, unmoving. "I apologise for the scene." He said tersely, shaking his head angrily when Regina strode past them to stand at the graveside. "It was unwise of me to confront her now."

"You probably shouldn't confront her at all." Emma suggested, and he finally moved to her side, the three of them striding back towards the rest of the crowd. "Not today."

She thought she heard him mumble the words 'Especially today' but she wasn't certain.

He didn't say anything more, standing stoically by her side as Mother Superior delivered the service. As Graham had no close family and friends, Mary-Margaret had decided that it was probably best for the nun to deliver the eulogy as well, although she had apparently asked Lacey if she wanted to speak.

Lacey had said that although she would love to talk about the kind things Graham had done for her, she was often too drunk to remember.

Except, when it was time for the speeches, Emma felt Jones leave her side, and she watched him wander around the crowd to exchange a few quiet words with Mother Superior herself.

"Before I say a few final words," Mother Superior began, once she had left Jones and returned to her position at the head of the grave. "Mr Jones would like to say something."

The pawnbroker took his position, and Emma noticed how he scratched behind his ear and bit his lip, lowering his hand away from his face to tap anxiously against his thigh. "Right," he began quietly, and then he cleared his throat and suddenly seemed confident. "I don't have too much to say, so I'd rather leave the more eloquent speech to Mother Superior here. However, I would like to say that I'd known Graham for a very long time. We all had. He was kind and honourable and he did his best for the town. To lose any such man is a tragedy. What makes this entire affair even more grievous, is that Graham was taken well before his time."

Emma was watching Jones closely enough to see him swallow, to see the way his gaze hardened and he turned to stare pointedly at the mayor. "There's is no reasonable explanation for what happened to Graham." he continued, his voice tight with fury. "There is  _nothing_ that can justify what happened. And finally, there is nothing that will make  _any_ of us forget."

He finally looked away from Regina, his gaze passing over Emma for only a brief moment, and then he stepped back from the grave, gesturing for Mother Superior to return to her place.

He was back at Emma's side again before she had the chance to process his words. All she could think about was how he had made Graham's death sound like a murder, even though she knew otherwise, even though she had  _been_ there.

But his words had meant something to the mayor. Regina's head was bowed, but her hands were trembling and her face pale.

Regina left before Mother Superior could even begin speaking.

~~~*~~~

With everything that had happened lately, Emma had completely forgotten about Christmas. It didn't help that Storybrooke seemed rather unfestive, with no Christmas trees and barely any fairy lights.

It was nothing at all like Boston.

There had been  _some_ celebrations planned. Granny's diner had hosted a party on Christmas Eve, for one, and Mary-Margaret had taken it upon herself to serve a Christmas dinner to Emma and David.

Everything felt filled with false cheer instead of actual joy, because Graham's death still weighed on the whole community, but at least the holiday was a distraction, albeit not a welcome one.

Emma had managed to organise a few minutes with her son, but it still felt miserable on Christmas Day to have to sneak out to Henry's castle just so she could give him a hug, a card and a few comics she had bought from the pharmacy.

Henry had received an expensive camera from Regina, as well as numerous other gifts, so Emma doubted her small present would be appreciated, but her son seemed thrilled. He gave her a card, signed 'Love, Henry', and it meant so much to her that as soon as she got home, she gave it pride of place on her bedside table.

He said that he'd asked to get her a present, but Regina had refused. Emma told him that she didn't need anything more than knowing that he  _had_ thought of her.

He'd run home after another hug, and Emma had even dared to kiss his forehead, which felt strange but not too unusual that she would be reluctant to do it again.

And now Emma was sitting in the loft, on the couch opposite David Nolan, a heavy, uncomfortable silence permeating the room. At least the apartment smelt wonderful, with Mary-Margaret bustling around the small kitchen, a ham roasting in the oven and a pumpkin pie on the counter ready for baking the instant the ham was served.

It was hard to talk to David, because Emma didn't like small talk and David  _couldn't_ do small talk, not after they'd covered the weather and the standard Christmas greetings.

They'd tried, because Emma wanted this to go as well as it could, for Mary-Margaret's sake. But David had no past he could speak of, and his well-intentioned questions had quickly moved from Christmas in Boston to her actual  _life_ in Boston, and they'd just fallen silent after that.

Mary-Margaret tried a few conversation starters, but her attempts never worked.

But once the food was served, Emma assisting with plating up the food and David carving the ham, the three of them sat down at the table and it was easier.

Not  _easy_ , but manageable.

Mary-Margaret was bright enough for things to run smoothly. She spoke of her days at school, told romance-coloured stories of her days at the hospital, when she would deliver flowers to David's bedside.

They toasted to David's first Christmas, at least the first one he remembered, and Mary-Margaret took pictures, for 'posterity's sake'. David laughed the whole time, a warm laugh that cheered the room up, shaking the polaroids in the air until the instant images developed.

Considering the Christmas' that Emma had experienced before, it was the best Christmas she'd ever had, even after everything that had happened that month. And it was the first Christmas in years where she hadn't had a Chinese takeout for her dinner, and where she hadn't eaten alone.

She was actually having a good time.

But when the meal was finished, and Emma was behind the kitchen island, doing the dishes, her usual holiday loneliness began to press down on her, for the first time since she'd woken up in the morning and realised it was Christmas. For the first time since she'd realised that this year might be different.

It didn't help that David and Mary-Margaret were curled together on the sofa. David had given Mary-Margaret a floral scarf and it was draped around her neck, one of his hands toying with the edge of the accessory.

"It's a diary." Mary-Margaret said, once David had ripped open the wrapping on her gift to him.

"Journal." David corrected with a chuckle, and Emma watched as he leant close to brush a kiss to Mary-Margaret's lips. "I'd prefer the word journal."

"Alright, fine, it's a journal." The teacher acquiesced, a delicate laugh escaping her followed by the two of them sharing another light kiss. "I just figured it might be nice for you to write down all your  _new_ memories, so that you don't lose these ones too."

David laughed, flipping through the pages with one hand, his forehead resting against Mary-Margaret's. "I don't ever want to lose these." he murmured, loud enough for Emma to hear even though it was clearly intended to be just for Mary-Margaret. "Thank you."

And then it was too much, because  _that_ , what Mary-Margaret had found with David, was something Emma had  _never_ had, and seeing people together, the way they were, made her loneliness even more potent.

She finished the dishes, and she left the apartment.

They were too caught up in each other for a goodbye.

~~~*~~~

The docks were dark and empty by the time Emma reached them, having spent a long time wandering the quiet streets of Storybrooke before she ventured down to the sea front.

Sitting by the ocean had always been a habit of Emma's, something that calmed her and distracted her when things were too much. After Phoenix, she had always lived near the water, so it was instinctive for her to retreat to the Storybrooke Harbour now that she was feeling alone and miserable.

Except the Harbour wasn't as desolate as she had hoped. Jones' ship towered over the docks, and it looked like Jones himself was sat nearby, on one of the benches overlooking the sea. He was slumped forward, holding a flask in his hand, and he looked as miserable as Emma felt.

"What are you doing out here?" Emma asked, walking over to join him for no reason other than his bench definitely had the best view. She could clearly see the thin crescent moon reflected in the waves, the image broken by ripples in the water.

It was nice here.

Jones had jumped slightly when he heard her voice, and it was one of the first times he didn't smile when he saw her. Instead he just glanced from Emma to his flask and then at the horizon, shrugging in response. "It's colder out here."

"Bad day?"

"Could be better." Jones muttered, his fingers tapping out a slow rhythm on the metal flask. "Nothing like a holiday to make you melancholy. Then again, I don't really celebrate Christmas. I never have, and the town's pathetic attempts at festive decoration are hardly going to change my mind."

"I'm not one for celebrating either." Emma admitted, a slight smile curving her lips when he wordlessly offered her the flask. "Although, I do have a few traditions I like to stick to. Not that they're possible here in Storybrooke."

He didn't say anything in response. Jones just watched her as she plucked the flask from his hand and took a swig, the alcohol inside it burning her throat. Whatever it was he was drinking was far stronger than she had expected.

"It's rum." Jones said with a dry chuckle, taking the flask back and watching with an amused smirk as Emma coughed. "Although, it is quite a bit more powerful than anything you'll find at the Rabbit Hole."

"It's fine. It's good." Emma said, once her coughing had subsided. "It was just a bit unexpected."

Jones chuckled again and took a swig of his own, his tongue darting out to catch a few stray drops of liquor on his lips. "I didn't believe a warning was necessary, but I apologise for that oversight."

She stole the drink from his hand and took another sip. "You know, I have  _tried_ real Christmases. They aren't for me."

"I've never felt the need." Jones admitted, and they were just sharing the drink now, passing the flask between one another.

"One time, a few years ago now," Emma started, and she wasn't entirely sure  _why_ she was telling Jones this story, but misery made good company, and she was warmed from the rum, as well as the eggnog that had accompanied her meal, and she didn't really see a reason  _not_ to share the tale with him. "I tried to do Christmas properly. I made a dinner for my boyfriend and me, although I burnt most of it, and then we exchanged gifts. You know, like you're supposed to. I don't even remember what I bought him, but he got me these beautiful diamond earrings."

"Sounds like you had a good time." Jones stated apprehensively, and she knew he was already aware that the story wasn't going to end as well as it began.

"Well, at the time, sure." Emma agreed, grabbing the flask for another swig, this drink slightly longer than any she'd had previously. "I had a great time until the next day, when he called me and said he needed the earrings back because his wife had noticed they were missing."

"Bad form." Jones breathed, his eyebrows high on his forehead. "I take it that you were unaware of the wife and the stolen jewellery?"

"Yep." Emma muttered through another pull from the flask, feeling slightly more light-headed than she had at her arrival. "Kind of ruined that Christmas. I didn't really see the point of trying again after that."

He stood suddenly, hurrying from the bench to his ship, Emma watching him go. He'd left the flask in her hand, so she figured he wasn't leaving, but she would have preferred an explanation. Instead, she took a long drink of the rum, feeling warmth spread through her.

She'd never told anyone that before, and she'd spilled her past to Jones without a second thought. At least she hadn't spoken about her other miserable holidays at foster homes or on the run, because one story about her was more than enough for anyone to know.

Jones returned, pressing a small box into her hand before she even had the chance to ask him where he had gone. "For you." he stated, plucking the rum from her grip and watching, almost anxiously, as she opened the lid.

Emma swallowed when she saw what was inside, a pair of golden hoops with a single bead, clearly made out of some sort of precious stone, although Emma couldn't identify what. They looked expensive, and they looked old, like the sort of earrings she had seen at museums.

She didn't understand why Jones had anything like this, let alone why he seemed to be giving them to her.

"What?" she asked, running her finger along the curve of the gold. "For me?"

"I promise you I have no wife who will be demanding their return tomorrow." He teased, and Emma had to smile at him, because he wasn't judging her for her mistake at all. He was being kind and wonderful and she  _couldn't_ take the gift.

"They're too much." she whispered, holding the box out towards him and ignoring the way he looked utterly crestfallen. "I can't take these."

For a minute, Emma believed he would refuse to take the gift back, but he put the flask in his jacket pocket and then took the box from her. Once it was secured in the front pocket of his jeans, he slumped back down beside her, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. "Your traditions then?" he questioned, and Emma wasn't sure what he was talking about. "You said you had a few traditions. Would you mind sharing?"

_Did_  she mind? She'd already opened up enough, and he hadn't exactly told her anything about him in return, but when she looked at his interested, sincere expression, she found that actually, she didn't mind at all.

"They're pretty boring." she said quietly, rubbing her hands together nervously. "I basically get a Chinese takeout and then go and find someone to help me forget how pathetic my Christmas is."

Jones nodded, reaching out to still her hands and then pulling his own hand away instantly. "I understand." he stated, although Emma doubted it, his gaze locked on the broken reflection of the moon. "It's easy to convince yourself that you're not lonely when you can feel someone. I also know that using people doesn't help. Not for long enough."

And he  _did_ understand, and maybe it was that, or maybe it was because Emma was slightly - only slightly - tipsy, but she was kissing him.

It was desperate, their teeth clashing when she pulled him towards her, her hands moving from his collar to his hair, and he grunted into her mouth when she hauled him even closer, pulling him into her by her grip on his hair. His own hand was holding her waist tightly, and he met her every single movement, and it was wonderful and perfect and exactly what she needed.

Until it wasn't anymore. His hand moved, and then he was cupping her cheek, slowing the kiss, his mouth moving tenderly -  _too_ tenderly - over hers, the tips of his fingers caught in her hair. For a few moments, when Emma didn't know what was happening or what to do, she just kissed him back, opening her mouth to him when he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips and then captured her upper lip between his.

It was too much, it felt like it  _meant_ too much, and Emma couldn't handle that, pulling away and shaking when he followed her, his forehead against hers and his eyes closed, breathing heavily.

"I can't do this." she stammered, and he finally moved back, looking as stunned as she felt. "I didn't want this."

"I know what you wanted." He said quietly, rummaging through his coat to find the flask again, and then he drank from it until all the rum was gone. "You wanted to forget. You wanted to use me like you've used others on previous Christmases. I understand, truly, because I know there's no one else you could use. There's no one else here that you trust-"

"It's not about trust!" Emma interrupted, because what he was saying was wrong. Was right. She hadn't thought about it, hadn't consciously chosen him to be the one she used for a brief moment of comfort, but she  _had_ been using him for exactly that.

"In Storybrooke, it is." Jones muttered. "This is a small town, Emma. You don't want people to know and you trust me enough not to tell."

"No." Emma denied, standing from the bench and looking down at him. She  _didn't_ trust him, had refused to let herself ever since she'd heard him talking with Regina, had seen what things were kept in his shop. "All this is is that it's Christmas and I've had too much rum."

She started to walk away - she  _needed_ to walk away - but then she heard Jones' voice, and she stopped.

"You don't  _need_ to be lonely, Emma." he said, just loud enough for her to hear it. "I don't need to be lonely either."

"What are you suggesting?" Emma asked, because she didn't want to go back to the loft just yet, not when Mary-Margaret and David were likely to still be up. "Spend more time here, with you?"

"I'm suggesting we keep each other company." He stood from the bench, walking over to join her and stopping a few steps away, far enough so she wasn't wondering if she was going to kiss him again, if he was going to kiss her. "I'm suggesting that I have a small tv and a few movies, and perhaps it would be nice to spend Christmas watching them."

She swallowed, warring with herself over whether or not to accept his offer. She'd  _just_ kissed him, as well as pushed him away and rejected him, and normally, that would be enough for Emma to run. But he seemed willing to forget, willing to keep trying at the friendship they had been attempting over the past couple of weeks, and she didn't want to lose that.

So she said yes.

And when they were in his room, sat on opposite ends of his tiny bed, his ancient television playing Superman from a videotape, she was rather glad she'd agreed.

~~~*~~~

It appeared that Emma's return to the Sheriff station was earlier than she had planned. Emma wasn't sure if she was ready to go back yet, uncertain if she'd still just see Graham collapsing the second she saw the floor before her desk, but although she could answer calls and do paperwork at the apartment, there was a limit to what she could there.

Detaining people was  _not_ something she could do at the loft and with the way that Lacey and Keith were acting, they needed to be detained.

Emma had wondered if it was a sign of things to come if her first act as acting Sheriff was taking in Lacey and Keith for public indecency, but she couldn't just let them have sex in Keith's parked car, in daylight, on Main Street.

"Christmas is over, so stop celebrating." Emma said, rapping on the window of Keith's car and determinedly not looking at them as the couple attempted to make themselves decent. She had already seen far too much of the both of them. "I'm afraid I'm going to take you guys to the station, because doing that here was a pretty crap idea."

"It didn't seem like a crap idea." Lacey said, her voice slightly slurred, stepping out the vehicle and tugging her skirt down and then adjusting her bra strap. "In fact, it was rather fun. Risk makes  _everything_ better."

At the last phrase, Emma could smell the alcohol of Lacey's breath and she sighed again. She'd read enough paperwork to know that this was going to be common occurrence.

When Keith was ready, his clothes creased and his hair mussed, she escorted the two of them down to the station, the couple remarkably at ease with their arrest.

It turned out being at the station was alright when she was busy.

"I'm sorry about Graham." The words were quiet, but Emma heard them, looking up from her papers to see Lacey resting against the bars of the cell. "Really. You must miss him." For a moment, Lacey looked  _smaller_ , nothing like the boisterous woman she usually was, and it was a bit disconcerting, but then she laughed and straightened up, wobbling slightly on her heels. "But I guess this is your rite of passage, as Sheriff."

"Acting Sheriff." Emma corrected, refusing to be distracted by Lacey, even though she was right. Emma  _did_ miss Graham, because he had been a friend and a  _mentor_ , because he had helped when she had no idea what she was doing, and now she was in charge.

She entered the small glass office before Lacey had a chance to speak again, to distract her some more, and frowned down at the ink fingerprints and the empty boxes on the paper she had to fill in. She had no idea what she was doing, but Emma desperately wanted to do it right. For Storybrooke, and for Graham.

Once she had Graham's shoelace wrapped around her wrist, the boots having been left on the drawers nearby after the morgue returned his things, she felt better. She  _could_ do this. Graham wouldn't have given her the job if he thought otherwise, and she wasn't going to let him down.

And like Jones had said, a week before, there was nothing that was going to make her forget him either.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments/kudos! And thank you to Hawkeye733 for the editing!

**Chapter 9**

The sound of something being dropped on to the table startled Emma and her head jolted up, her attention drawn away from the spreadsheet on the computer screen. Digitizing the station's records was tedious work, but at least it was  _something_ to do, and it definitely took a lot of concentration.

"Happy New Year, Swan." She hadn't expected it to be Jones, especially because she had rather determinedly avoided him since Christmas Day over a week earlier, once the alcohol had worn off and she realised what they'd done. He sounded hesitant, and for a brief moment, she wondered if he would go away if she ignored him.

That was just a bit too childish for Emma, so she turned to face him. He was shuffling awkwardly, and it felt even worse than it had after she'd accused him of trying to buy a baby, because they'd been, dare she say it, friends before she'd drunkenly decided to kiss him.

"Happy New Year to you too." she said, running a hand through her hair to make sure it was away from her face. "It's been a while."

"It has." Jones agreed carefully, and Emma didn't like how stilted their conversation was, so she smiled up at him. He appeared to relax almost instantly, a matching grin spreading across his face. "I have to admit I was nervous that the sheer length of the film had scared you away."

"Not really." Emma said with a laugh. And this was new for her, because she still hazily remembered their kiss - their pretty  _wonderful_ kiss - and she preferred to not see any of her Christmas Day hook ups afterward. "Although, I've never watched a film older than me before. I...uh… I actually had a good time. A good Christmas, even. Quite a bit of that was because of you… and the film."

What was  _wrong_ with her?

Jones tilted his head, just slightly, and then he chuckled. "I agree. It was time well spent."

Honestly, Emma wished she had forgotten that entire night, because with the kiss and the  _comfort_ she had found with him after, she didn't know what to do with herself or with him. But apparently, she hadn't drunk enough for that.

"Well, why are you here?" Emma asked, turning back towards the screen and pressing a few buttons absently. She wasn't even sure what she was inputting, but it was better than meeting the soft look in his eyes. "If there's a sequel to Superman, I'm not too sure I have the time. Or that  _you_ have the time. You do remember that you run a shop, right?"

"I'm certain we can find the time." Jones said, perching on the side of the desk. Emma swallowed, because she hadn't meant it like  _that_ , except maybe she  _could_ handle a few more movie nights with him if they  _weren't_ preceded with kisses.

She wasn't going to kiss him again.

"Unfortunately, I'm not here for that." Jones continued, his voice more solemn, and he finally gestured towards the cardboard box he had placed on the desk. "I'm here because I was wondering if you wanted any of Graham's belongings before I have to rid myself of them."

"Graham's things?" Emma questioned, standing up and lifting the lid off the box, glancing down at the collection of seemingly random items. "Why do you have his stuff?"

"He resided in one of the many dwellings I own." Jones explained with a shrug, reaching into the box to grab the antenna of one of the walkie-talkies, the item dangling from his fingers as he examined it curiously. "If you'd rather not have a keepsake, that's alright. I thought it might be good form to check before it's all gone."

"You asked Regina if she wants any of it?" Emma questioned, running her thumb across the worn leather of one of the late Sheriff's jackets.

"No. I don't intend to, either." Jones said sharply, his tone surprising Emma, pulling her hand back from the box in case she was doing something wrong. "Whatever Regina felt for him, I don't believe Graham would have wanted her to have anything to hold on to."

Emma frowned, rummaging carefully through the various objects, and then shaking her head and sitting back down in her chair, her arms folded on the desk. "I'm not sentimental."

There was silence for a second, Jones setting the walkie-talkie down on the table and then he slowly reached across the table to slide his thumb gently along the shoelace tied around her wrist, the pad of his thumb just grazing her skin. Emma's breath shallowed, staring at his hand. "I'd say you're  _slightly_ sentimental, love."

"Everyone's slightly sentimental." Emma murmured, but she didn't pull her hand away. "I don't need anything more than this."

"Henry might like this though." Jones said, now just stroking the inside of her wrist. "Whatever it is."

"You mean the walkie-talkie?" Emma said, raising an eyebrow and looking at the large black communicator standing on the desk. "Do you  _not_ know what a walkie-talkie is?"

"I assume it's like a phone, only different." Jones offered, finally drawing his hand back and then holding the walkie-talkie out towards her once again. "Honestly, I believe any machine that allows you to keep in contact with your son, no matter how confusing, is something you should have."

"Confusing?" Emma asked, although she did take the walkie-talkie from him. "It can't be too hard. Your phone is so ancient that it basically looks the same as this thing. But okay, maybe you're right. I'll take these. For Henry."

"Certainly." Jones said through a smile. "For Henry."

Emma quelled a smile, digging the matching walkie-talkie out of the box and then balancing the two in her hand. "So, thanks. For this. You didn't have to bring the stuff here, so…"

"You're welcome." Jones said, standing up from the desk, picking up the cardboard box, and heading towards the door. Once he was in the open doorway, he turned back to look at Emma. "I'd love to stay, but as you said, I  _do_ have a shop to run and a ship to manage-"

"I didn't say a thing about a ship."

"Either way, I'm unfortunately too busy to spend my afternoon here with you." Jones said, raising an eyebrow and running his tongue along his lips. "Sorry for the disappointment."

"You came here." Emma pointed out, but Jones just laughed, the same deep, cheery laugh that Emma  _didn't like_. "If anyone's busy, it's me."

He laughed again, jostled the box in his arms, and then strode away, Emma's gaze on him until he was no longer in view.

~~~*~~~

She'd visited Henry's castle almost every day since Henry had returned to school after Christmas vacation. However, until that day, the old playground had been deserted. When Emma pulled up by the coast, she felt an excited smile spread across her face, because it had been far too long since she'd seen her son.

Emma jogged over towards Henry, but her smile faded when he looked at her and then looked away. "Hey!" she called over, but Henry only bowed his head and clasped his hands together. "You alright there, kid?"

Henry shrugged, Emma passing him one of the walkie-talkies before she sat beside him. Henry took it, passing it between his hands. "I'm fine." he said miserably.

Emma frowned, unsure what to say. "Well, I brought you this. I have the other one. I thought we might use them for Operation Cobra?"

"Thanks."

"Oh, come on. What's up?" Emma insisted, nudging her son's shoulder gently. "You've been avoiding me since Christmas."

Henry exhaled loudly, eyes at the sky. "I think we should stop Operation Cobra for a while. I think we're putting people in danger. Not just us. Look what happened to Graham!"

"Henry, they did an autopsy." Emma told him, remembering the file she had read a few days after Graham's death. "It was totally natural causes."

"Okay. Whatever." Henry said stubbornly. "You don't believe. Good. That should keep you from messing with it. And getting killed."

"You're worried about me?" Emma asked softly, wrapping her arm around Henry's shoulders and pulling him into her side.

"She killed Graham because he was good." Henry mumbled into her arm. "And you're good."

Emma swallowed, glancing down at the little boy leaning against her. She'd never seen him so hopeless before, and she didn't like it. It couldn't just be Graham's death, because she had seen him for a few days afterwards. Something else had triggered the growing distance between them, and she wondered what it was that had made him look so sad and empty. "What brought this on?"

Henry shrugged, his knuckles white as he gripped the walkie-talkie tightly. "I was already thinking about it because of Graham. What if someone else gets hurt too? She's always on the phone to Mr Jones and they're always arguing. And he's your prince, so he's good, so if they keep fighting, maybe it'll be him next."

"Henry…" Emma sighed, curiosity peaked by the apparent conflict between the mayor and the pawnbroker, especially because before Graham's death, Jones had admitted they tolerated one another. But Henry looked so resigned that she decided not to question it.

"Good loses. Good always loses." Henry stated. "Because good has to play fair. Evil doesn't.  _She's_ evil." He moved away from her abruptly, standing up so that the walkie-talkie fell to the wooden platform. "This is probably best. I don't want to upset her anymore."

He ran away before Emma had a chance to say anything comforting, leaving her with the two walkie-talkies and a desperate wish that her son hadn't become so convinced about the curse. If he didn't believe, if he didn't think his adoptive mother was behind everything, he wouldn't be running away from Emma.

Somehow, she needed to prove him wrong, but Emma couldn't think of a way to do that, because Emma knew that the world wasn't split into good and evil. Sometimes even decent people stretched the rules a bit.

Henry, however, didn't need to learn that yet.

~~~*~~~

After Regina left the Sheriff station, Emma just stood there. She couldn't believe Regina had strode into the station and just  _taken_ the badge away from her, the  _job_ away from her.

Not that she had ever wanted to be a Sheriff, but she wanted to be a Sheriff far more than Sidney Glass, and she was  _definitely_  more qualified than Sidney. She had only been a deputy for just under two months, but that was longer than Sidney had ever been involved with law enforcement.

Regina might not like her, but it had to be purely immature pettiness that had led to her choosing the newspaper reporter over a slightly more qualified, experienced deputy.

That, and control.

Graham had spent his last day finally breaking free from Regina. The mayor had waited until it would hurt most of all, until Emma was settling in and was accepting her role at Storybrooke, and then Regina had come and taken back everything Graham had freed from her.

Furious, Emma shoved a pile of finished paperwork off the desk, her irritation only growing when she realised she'd only made  _more_ work for herself.

Although, maybe if she left it, Sidney would have to clean it up whenever he arrived at the station for his new job.

Emma could be petty too, if she let herself be.

Leaving the paper strewn across the station, she stomped down Main Street. Maybe there was something she could break and rebuild and then throw away because it wouldn't work again back at Mary-Margaret's. That always made her feel slightly better, or at least let her take her frustrations out on something.

Then she marched passed Mr Gold's pawnbroker's and thought that maybe just complaining to someone would be enough. She'd never tried that before.

_Should_ she try it?

She imagined Mary-Margaret would prefer this course of action over the destruction of one of her household appliances.

Besides, if Jones was fighting with Regina, he might appreciate her rants far more than the toaster would.

She stormed inside, the door slamming behind her. She saw Jones jump at the sound, the man sat just behind the counter and looking intently at a huge piece of parchment spread across the glass counter. His sudden movement knocked a small bottle over, and he cursed, pushing his chair away from the counter.

But when he looked up and saw her, his face softened the way it always did, even though he had been angry only seconds before. "What is it, darling?" he asked, clenching and unclenching his hand, Emma only just noticing the shine of black ink staining his skin. "You look incensed."

Darling was a new one. He'd never called her that before, and maybe she'd have called him out on it if he wasn't scowling down at the mess in front of him. It looked like one of his hand-drawn maps, except a dark lake of ink was shimmering over half of it, and Emma grimaced when she realised that it was her fault.

"Regina." Emma explained, taking a few cautious steps towards him, wanting a better view of what she'd ruined. Absently, she remembered she still had the map he gave her somewhere in her car, and maybe she should hang it up somewhere.

"Say no more." He told her with a chuckle, apparently deciding his work was beyond saving and crumpling it to one side.

Emma caught a glimpse of some delicately drawn, miniature trees, and she felt herself deflate slightly, some of her anger being replaced by guilt. Because what he'd drawn was precise and detailed and beautiful, and she'd  _ruined_ it. "But I want to say more."

He grinned at her, leaning his elbows on the counter and raising an eyebrow at her. "Then feel free to tell me."

Emma groaned, striding the rest of the distance across the shop to stand opposite Jones, mimicking his position, her elbows only millimetres away from his. "Apparently Sidney Glass is the Sheriff now." she grumbled, catching sight of Graham's lace around her wrist and just feeling resigned. "I suppose I'll find out whether or not I still have a job whenever Regina decides it will hurt the most."

"As much as I wish I could say otherwise, I'm hardly surprised." Jones said with a sigh, reaching out towards her as though he was going to touch her, maybe pat her shoulder or something, but then he clearly remembered the ink on his hands and pulled his hand back. "You're too strong for Regina. She wants a Sheriff willing to grant her every wish."

His lips quirked, only slightly, into a smile Emma didn't understand, but his expression was quickly the same solemn one it had been before. "I guess I'm not surprised either." Emma admitted, sagging forward slightly to rest her chin in her hands. "I just… with today being the day that I would have officially become Sheriff, I had begun to think that maybe I actually had a place in this town. And she just came and took that."

She watched his jaw clench, and then he took in a deep breath. "Perhaps she can't do that. The Sheriff is an elected role, isn't it? Surely the mayor can't simply appoint a person of  _her_ choosing."

"I don't know." Emma mumbled with a resigned shrug. "Regina probably knows the rules better than either of us."

"Now, I've never been fond of rules, but I'm sure we can familiarise ourselves with them quickly enough." He said, with a new, calculating grin on his face. "May I suggest you go to Granny's and procure me a lasagne, and whatever you want, and I'll meet you there with the town charter. We'll find something, I'm sure of it."

She tilted her head, searching for, she didn't know what, and then she nodded, straightening up and reaching out to nudge his shoulder. "Fine. But I'm not paying for your lunch."

"I never expected you to." He stated, nodding at her in goodbye.

Within thirty minutes, Emma was sat in one of the booths of Granny's, one hand tapping impatiently against the linoleum table. She had no idea where the town charter was kept, but she felt as though she'd been sitting there for hours.

"I apologise for the wait." She heard Jones before she saw him, turning in her seat to see him walking towards her, a huge binder tucked under his arm. "Mr Kryszkowski was rather reluctant to let me borrow the charter."

"Mr who?" she asked, the table creaking when Jones thumped the papers down in front of her. "Also, I ordered your lasagne and I'm pretty sure Ruby's been waiting for you to get here before delivering  _my_ meal, so I'm starving."

Jones laughed, sliding into the seats opposite her, his laugh only deepening when Ruby showed up almost instantly. She placed a plate of steaming lasagne in front of Jones, a grilled cheese and onion rings in front of Emma, and then left, giving Emma a thumbs up as she walked away.

Emma shook her head at the waitress, because  _this,_ with Jones, wasn't anything.

They didn't even speak for a long time, Jones apparently taking it upon himself to skim over every seemingly relevant page as Emma picked at her food. Occasionally, she had to knock away his hand when he reached across to steal an onion ring, but then he'd sigh and resume his silent research.

But he was being so helpful and kind and,  _maybe_ , he looked rather endearing with his nose buried in a book, leaving ink thumb prints on the edges of the pages, and pausing occasionally to eat a forkful of lasagne, so she pushed the onion rings closer towards him.

Sharing her onion rings was the least she could do, and when he turned a pleased grin her way, she couldn't stop a laugh when she realised he'd intended that all along.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked suddenly, Henry's dramatic words of warning from the day before suddenly surfacing in her mind. "I've heard you've been disagreeing with Regina lately. Helping me is hardly going to make that better."

He paused and glanced up at her, a slightly sheepish tone to his voice when he responded. "I had hoped Regina was calling once Henry was asleep. I would never have wanted Henry to be audience to any of our fights." He smiled apologetically. "Simply put, Regina and I don't really tolerate one another any more. We've disagreed over a few too many things for our relationship to remain as civil as it was when you arrived."

"And yet you're doing this with me?" she asked, because Emma didn't know much about friendship, but she liked to think that she'd try to mend a friendship instead of knowingly continuing to do things that would make things worse. "Really?"

Jones shook his head, his smile growing wider, and Emma wondered if she was missing something. He was looking at her as though she was missing something. "I believe I'll take plenty of pleasure in irritating her. Besides, love, even if I  _was_ currently on good terms with the mayor, I'd still be right here with you. I tolerated her, but I never bent to her every whim."

She swallowed, an unfamiliar warmth filling her at his words. He really  _was_ on her side, and it wasn't because he was currently angry with the mayor but because he honestly thought that Regina was doing something wrong.

Emma wasn't used to having someone support her.

She finished off the last few onion rings, examining each one as though it might be poisoned, because she wasn't sure what she'd do if she looked up at him.

Then the book was pushed in front of her, Jones' finger pointing to a line near the bottom of the page. "Here." He said triumphantly, and they shared a smile. "Our dear mayor can only appoint a candidate for Sheriff. She can't appoint the Sheriff. If she wants to put Sidney forward for the position, she can do that, but she can't stop you from running against him."

He was beaming at her, and Emma returned the smile slightly breathlessly. "I guess there's a chance then." she stated with a determined nod of her head. "I'm going to run in this election and I'm going to do everything the  _right_ way."

"Pardon?"

"Oh, just something Henry said." she admitted, her mood muted at the memory. "He said evil doesn't play fair and so evil always wins. If I run, and if I  _win_ , I show him that he's wrong. He has to know that doing the right thing pays off."

"Well, Swan, I'm not averse to playing dirty," Jones said with a rakish grin, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and it took effort for Emma to not stare at his mouth. "But it's your campaign, so I'll play your way."

"First things first, I'm going to make sure Regina knows she hasn't won yet." Emma said, a fierce determination rising in her. "She needs to know that she can't beat me that easily."

~~~*~~~

"How was school?" Emma asked, sitting beside Henry at the diner and nudging him gently with her shoulder.

After her decision yesterday, Emma had stormed into the press conference announcing Sidney's new job and made it clear just how much power Regina actually had. And then Emma had gone home and told Mary-Margaret and David, who was steadily spending more and more time at the loft, exactly what she was planning on doing.

Mary-Margaret had gotten very excited about all the potential posters and badges she might get to make, and then Emma had watched the teacher get out piles of glitter and paint. Emma had gone to bed before any actual art could get underway.

She hadn't really slept. She wanted to be Sheriff, she really did, but there was something terrifying about the idea that people would need to  _choose_ her for the job. Emma was  _never_ chosen, and she'd spent a long time avoiding situations where rejection was a possibility.

And then she had wasted most of the day trying to work out exactly  _how_ someone ran for anything.

But now, she was sat beside her son and she was going to tell him what she was doing, and if necessary, reassure him that whatever happened during the election didn't mean she was in danger from his mother.

"It was okay." Henry mumbled finally, having remained quiet for far longer than usual, his attention on the newspaper in his hand.

"You're reading that paper pretty hard." Emma pointed out, peering over his shoulder in an attempt to see the headline, but it was folded out of her sight. "Anything interesting in there?"

"Sidney wrote it." He warned her, passing the paper to her.

She turned the paper over, uneasiness filling her when she saw the picture filling half of the page, one of the terrible photos Graham had taken during her second arrest in Storybrooke.

And then she read the headline.

"Ex-Jailbird - Emma Swan birthed babe behind bars." she read under her breath, swallowing and running her hand across her face, feeling not only furious that Sidney would have illegally read her files and spread their contents to the entire town, but desperately hoping that Henry wouldn't be too hurt by the truth.

"Is it a lie?" Henry asked quietly, Emma's grip on the paper tightening and creasing the page.

"No."

"I was born in jail?"

Emma sighed, dropping the paper down on the table and cautiously wrapping her arm around Henry's shoulder. "Yes." she admitted, frowning down at Henry when his head dropped and he looked miserable. "These records were supposed to be sealed. Just… tell me you're not scarred for life."

"I'm not." Henry insisted, leaning into her and causing Emma to sigh in relief. "Well, not by this."

"Good." She said, smiling down at him. "Then let's throw  _this_ out and we will start getting our news from something more reliable. Like the internet."

"This is what I've been trying to tell you." Henry said, still looking at the headline. "Good can't beat evil because good doesn't do this kind of thing. My mom plays dirty and that's why you can't beat her. Ever."

"Yes, but I have something Regina doesn't have." Emma said, a wide, slightly fake, grin spreading across her face. She wanted to cheer Henry up, but it was hard to look happy when every single person in Storybrooke now knew about one of the most painful parts of her past, and she was certain that some people would be judging her for it. "I have an ally.  _I_  have Killian Jones."

"Mr Jones is helping you?" Henry said, twisting in his chair to look at her, his eyes wide and excited. "But he's Sidney's friend. He chose you over Sidney? I  _told_ you he was your Prince Charles! Are you- is he-?"

She wasn't entirely sure what Henry was trying to ask, so she just laughed. "He's a friend. A good friend. Not my Prince." Henry seemed unconvinced, but she wasn't going to spend too long trying to persuade him otherwise. "But yeah, he's helping me. And he's known around town, I mean he  _owns_ most the town, and maybe him being on my side will be enough to persuade people that maybe I deserve their votes."

Henry nodded, and then his smile faded away and he gripped Emma's arm. "No, Emma, wait! He's already fighting with Mom. What if she finds out?"

"She  _will_  find out, Henry." Emma said, slightly confused. "He's not going to be helping from the shadows. I'm not hiding anything and I'm doing this right. Jones isn't going to hide whose side he's on. No one is."

"But Mom might hurt him. He's always been on her side and now he's working with you?" Henry panicked, his hold on her arm almost painful. "What if something happens to him? You can't lose him."

Emma shook her head, bemused by his words but not wanting Henry to know she wasn't taking him seriously. "Well, I'll make sure nothing happens to him. I'm the saviour, so I can do that, right?"

Henry visibly relaxed and beamed at her, and with Henry finally looking at ease and happy, Emma found that her only worry was that Jones wouldn't help now that he knew her past and knew what trouble she'd been in.

He was a decent guy, but she knew very well that sometimes, her time in jail was just too much for people to move past.

~~~*~~~

She hadn't really thought about what she was doing when she called Jones and insisted he come over to the loft. The only things that had been on her mind were that Regina was still willing to hurt Henry to get what she wanted, something that was making Emma even more determined to keep the Sheriff's department out of her control, and that she had to take part in a debate.

A  _debate_. Emma had hated public speaking at school, back before she dropped out, and she'd managed to avoid anything similar since.

And now she needed to write a speech to deliver to the entirety of Storybrooke that was good enough to convince them to vote for her over Regina's chosen candidate.

Mary-Margaret was being rather helpful, having already made posters and promising to pick them up from the printers and put them up around town the following day. She had then begun brainstorming phrases for Emma to use in her speech, creating a colourful collage of words that Emma personally found rather useless.

She wasn't going to tell Mary-Margaret that though.

"You called?" Emma glanced up from her empty notepad to see Jones in the doorway, and she beamed at him, ignoring Mary-Margaret's sudden giggles. "I've delivered more than a few speeches in my time, so I believe I could be of assistance."

"Thanks for coming." she said, watching him until he was sat beside her. "I'm sorry about the call. I don't usually call for help like that. Not that I need help, but writing speeches freaks me out a bit. I figured it might be better with some company."

"The more company the better." Mary-Margaret agreed loudly, grinning over at Emma. "How about you two start on the speech and I'll make everyone some cocoa, or coffee, if that's what you prefer, Mr Jones."

"Killian's fine." He corrected absently, leaning closer to Emma to look at the blank sheet of paper and then turning towards her with a raised eyebrow. "As is cocoa."

And for a while, they just worked together. Mary-Margaret added more phrases to her mindmap, Jones wrote a few paragraphs that Emma corrected because they didn't sound like anything she would say, trying to keep the same sentiment without the old-fashioned words that the pawnbroker seemed to favour.

After an hour or so, Mary-Margaret decided to bake some cookies, the wink she sent towards Emma making it clear that her motivation was leaning more towards leaving Emma and Jones alone instead of any urges for baked goods.

"Emma?" Jones' whisper was warm against her cheek, and Emma turned to face him, they were only centimetres apart. She swallowed, edging away from him and then taking in a deep breath. His smile faltered, but he did nothing more than pluck the speech draft from her hand and put it on the coffee table. "The article in the Mirror this morning… how are you?"

"You read that then." Emma said, glancing away from him. "I guess you're wondering what I did to get arrested. It's always the first thing I get asked when anyone finds out about the jail thing."

"Not at all." Jones said with a shake of his head and a playful nudge to Emma's shoulder. "Your past doesn't change anything about you. No matter what happened, I'm enjoying spending time with the person you are now and as much as I'd love to know about your beginnings, your past is something that you should share when you're ready. What concerns me is how you're feeling now that you had your past revealed to the entire town without your consent."

"You really don't care?" she asked, keeping her stare locked on him just in case there was any sign he was lying, any sign that someday he would decide that maybe he  _did_ care.

"Really." he repeated, and he was telling the truth, which was something that made her send him a tremulous smile. "Besides, darling, if you knew all of my past, you'd understand that I was the last person to judge someone for any crimes they once committed."

"What did  _you_ do?" Emma asked, annoyingly breathless after his honest declaration.

"One day, Emma, I promise I'll tell you." He said, a soft smile dancing on his lips that Emma couldn't stop looking at it. "Right now, though, we need to figure out how to write an opening statement that doesn't  _deny_ any of Sidney's truthful accusations, but makes your past a reason people should vote for you. No matter your past, what happened made you a strong, caring,  _beautiful_  woman who would make a marvelous sheriff. We just need to make sure that everyone sees that."

Emma couldn't breath, because she'd never had anyone say anything like that to her, and Jones clearly meant it. Not a single word had set off Emma's internal lie detector, and she had no idea what to say or what to do.

Then his hand closed over hers, and her mind went blank. "I saw that the moment I met you. I can't see how anyone else will see otherwise," he told her, his voice low and sincere, and Emma found herself swaying slightly towards him before she shook herself back to reality and decided that Mary-Margaret probably needed some help in the kitchen.

She walked away without a word, choosing instead to linger anxiously by Mary-Margaret, determinedly avoiding all of the teacher's question and not at all bothered by the way Jones was slumped forward, his hand running through his hair.

Sometimes, he really terrified her.

~~~*~~~

With the posters deemed glittery enough, Mary-Margaret had chivvied Emma and David down to the bulletin boards outside the Town Hall several hours before the debate, with enough posters to decorate an entire room.

It was strange to see the same photo of her face over and over again, but that didn't put any of them off from stapling even more posters to the wood.

"David?" The three of them all turned at the sound of the voice, and Emma had to look at the couple when she realised it was Kathryn Nolan speaking, posters for Sidney Glass in her hand. "It's been a while. I, well, I wasn't expecting to run into you here."

"Kathryn." David said, looking panicked as he glanced between his wife and Mary-Margaret. "How are you?"

Mary-Margaret seemed to be looking to Emma for signals on what to do and how to act but this wasn't a scenario Emma was familiar with.

David seemed rather thrown too, but Emma had to admit that he was doing an admirable job of sounding calm.

"I'm fine. Actually, I've been good." Kathryn said with a small smile, taking the space beside them to start pinning up her own posters. "It's been a relief to finally understand everything that happened so many years ago, and, I don't know, I guess it feels like a fresh start."

David smiled fondly at her. "That's good. I had actually wanted to call and make sure you were alright with everything, but I couldn't remember your number."

Kathryn actually laughed and then swallowed, glancing between David and Mary-Margaret. "I wanted to call too, but I thought maybe you might be happier without a reminder of your old life."

"Maybe I struggled with all the photos and the stories, but you were always more than that." David reassured her, but he took Mary-Margaret's hand in his, clearly noticing the teacher's nervous foot tapping. "If it's not too uncomfortable for you, I'd love to keep in touch. I'd like to know about the man I used to be, even if I never remember, and you would be the best person for that. I'd understand if you didn't want to though."

"David," Kathryn sighed, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder and Emma shrugged uselessly when Mary-Margaret sent her a pleading look. "You were in a coma for years and I spent those years thinking you'd left me. As hard as the not-knowing was, it was so long that I had started to move on. I can deal with us spending time together even though we're not together anymore. It's been years for me and you don't even remember, so I'm sure we can handle a coffee at Granny's as I tell you about before."

David nodded, a grateful smile on his face. Kathryn didn't say much else, handing David a small business card and then busying herself with her own posters. An awkward silence weighed down on the four of them, because as civil as David and Kathryn's exchange had been, it was strange to be standing with David's wife, the divorce being still in progress, and his new girlfriend.

It was actually a relief when Emma heard someone walking up to them, and when Jones' ringed hand reached over her shoulder to pinch a few of her posters, she turned to grin at him. "A bit keen, aren't you? Arriving at the debate so early?"

Jones chuckled, but didn't answer, leaving Emma's side to squeeze between David and Kathryn and then using a spare pin from the board to hang one of Emma's posters so it obstructed the poster of Sidney that Kathryn had only just pinned up.

"Killian? You're not voting for Sidney?" Kathryn asked, Jones glancing at her and then shaking his head.

Emma understood why Kathryn had asked. Jones' friendship with the newspaper reporter was something even Mary-Margaret had commented on, but Emma's discussions with Jones over the past few days, either at Granny's over a hot cocoa or just through texts, had revealed that their association was mainly due to their mutual friendship with Regina.

It didn't seem to have continued now that Jones and Regina were fighting.

"I'm not putting the local law enforcement in the hands of our lovely mayor." Jones explained, and Kathryn frowned at the slight to her friend. "I believe there should be a separation between the sheriff station and mayor's office. After all, we don't want any corruption. I'd rather vote for someone competent instead of placing my confidence in Regina's lackey. Take that how you will."

Kathryn frowned, glancing down at the mass of posters in her hand, but Killian left her side before she could respond, returning to Emma. "Nice to know I have your vote." Emma teased, as if she hadn't already known, letting him take the rest of the posters from her.

"Always." he stated, the posters tucked under his left arm. "Now, how about you go inside and get ready for the debate?"

Emma grimaced, but decided it was probably better to run through her speech one more time instead of distracting herself with publicity. So, she nodded in agreement and made to leave, stopping when she felt Jones' hand on her wrist. "What?"

"Good luck, beautiful." he murmured, leaning close so his words to her were unheard by the others nearby.

She blinked at him, the words bringing back all the feelings that had overwhelmed her only a day before, but she let a warm smile curve her lips, one he returned instantly. "Thanks."

~~~*~~~

On stage, with Sidney sat only feet away and repeating his opening statement over and over again, Emma was getting nervous. Archie's own rehearsals didn't help.

She wasn't sure she could do this. The entire town was scared of Regina, and they knew  _exactly_ who Regina wanted in charge of the station. Emma didn't know if anything would be enough to convince them to vote otherwise, but she didn't want to see her son's face when he found out that that she'd lost.

Sat on her own uncomfortable chair, Emma mumbled the first few words of her prepared speech, but then Mary-Margaret joined her on the stage and handed her a bottle of water, a concerned, questioning expression on her face.

"I'm not going to win." Emma muttered in answer, glancing past the teacher to look at Henry.

He was sat beside Regina, and when the mayor spotted Emma was looking their way, she sent her a smug, triumphant smirk that was supremely irritating. "You  _will_." Mary-Margaret said, pulling Emma's attention away from the audience. "You have to believe that you can do this and that you can win, because if  _you_ don't, no one else will either."

"No. Henry's right." Emma sighed, her hands locked together to stop herself from fidgeting in front of everyone. "I can't beat Regina at this. Not the way she fights. Watch and see."

"I don't know Emma. Everyone I know is voting for you, and as for people being scared of Regina, Mr Jones is respected in this town. For him to have chosen to back you over Regina, it's going to mean something." Mary-Margaret gave her a searching look, and Emma hated how sometimes it felt like Mary-Margaret could actually read her. "Is this really about Regina?"

Emma nodded, but then, when Mary-Margaret raised a doubtful eyebrow, she gave in. "No. It's Henry. I want to show him that good can win."

"That's why you want to win it for him." The teacher said, looking over her shoulder at the kid. "But what about you? Why do you want to win it for you?"

Emma swallowed, searching through the audience for Henry and David and Jones, for everyone who had welcomed her into the town, and,  _god,_ she wanted to win. "That  _is_ why. I want to show him that a hero can win." she insisted, not enjoying the look Mary-Margaret was still levelling at her. "And if I can't, well, if I'm not a hero and I'm not the saviour, then what part do I have in Henry's life?"

"And there it is." Mary-Margaret pointed out, patting Emma gently on the shoulder and then retreating back to her seat next to David, who took her hand instantly.

Having admitted  _exactly_ why she wanted to run, another reason on top of everything else, wanting to do right by Graham, wanting to show Regina she couldn't be defeated so easily, her nerves were even more potent.

She didn't even really listen as Archie began the debate, managing only an uncomfortable nod when he gestured towards her. She could feel the stiff prompt cards in the pocket of her leather jacket, and she crumpled them in her fist when Sidney stood up at the podium and began to speak, his posture stiff and his words clearly rehearsed.

And obviously written by Regina, seeing as she was mouthing the words along with him.

"I just want to say that, if elected, I want to serve as a reflection of the best qualities of Storybrooke. Honesty, neighbourliness and strength. Thank you."

Sidney walked back to his seat, and then it was her turn. Emma took a deep breath, waited for Archie to call her name, and then strode to the podium. She flattened out her prompt cards, scanning Jones' neat script, and then she turned a smile to the audience.

"You guys all know I have a troubled past." she began, faltering slightly when her throat felt dry and too many people were looking at her. She caught Mary-Margaret's eye, and the teacher gave her a thumbs up, and she saw Killian Jones smiling up at her, and she swallowed, and she could  _do_ this. "I'm not going to deny that. I just hope that you won't let my actions from a decade ago colour the future. Or the present. I know I'm new here, and I know I'm still a stranger to many of you. But I want that to change. I became a deputy here because I want this place to be my home. Because I care. If I'm elected, I want to make sure that the law enforcement here does things right, because that's how I wish I had been treated and that's how Graham taught me to do it. Graham chose  _me_ to assist at the Sheriff's station, and although he's sadly no longer with us, and I regret that this election had to occur at all, I believe I can be the Sheriff that this town needs. Thank you."

The applause was surprisingly loud, and she could see Mary-Margaret cheering, Henry applauding, and Jones clapping his hand against his leg. She bowed her head in acknowledgement, and then she retreated back to her seat.

"Thank you, Miss Swan." Archie said, replacing her at the podium and smiling encouragingly back at her. "We now welcome any questions from the floor."

~~~*~~~

She'd kept her composure throughout the debate, despite the ridiculous questions Regina had asked her, and although she hadn't expected it, she'd actually won.

It had been close,  _ridiculously_ close, but Emma was the Sheriff, and she had to admit that it was worth it just for the look of fury on the mayor's face when Regina handed her the badge.

Well, what really made it worth everything was the glee on Henry's face when the results were announced and he realised that she'd won. She hadn't needed anything more than that, but Granny had organised a celebration at the diner, and Mary-Margaret had taken her by the arm and led her to the party.

It was strange having a party that was celebrating her, and she didn't really know what to do, but she wasn't going to reject a slice of cake from Mary-Margaret and a glass of rum from Jones.

Not that she usually accepted drinks from anyone, but he was beaming at her, his arm slung around her shoulder, and he'd been so helpful over the past few days, that she could allow it just this once.

"I knew you'd do it." he murmured into her ear, raising his glass to clink it against her's in a toast that was just for them.

"Well, I think it's all thanks to you." She replied quietly, angling her chin up so she was looking at only him, and it was  _only_  the buzzing, triumphant atmosphere that made her not care how close he was. "Mary-Margaret said something to me before the debate, about how the town respects you, and I know that if you hadn't been so outspoken about...well, about your belief in me, more people would have voted for Sidney. So thanks."

Jones blinked at her, his smile hesitant and taken aback, and then he leant towards her, his forehead against hers, and she couldn't look away from him, not when he was so close. "You're welcome, then." he murmured, and she could feel his breath against her skin, and she  _couldn't_ handle it.

"Emma?"

She jumped away from Jones, his arm falling from her shoulder, when she heard her son's voice, but when she looked down at Henry, he just seemed thrilled at what he had appeared to have interrupted. "Yes, kid?"

"You're Sheriff." Henry stated, still looking between Emma and Jones as if there was something he wanted to say. "You did it. I should never have thought evil would win. Not when you're a hero  _and_ you have your prince helping you."

"Your what?" Jones asked, a boyish, teasing smirk on his face.

"Prince." Henry chirped, and Emma sighed, looking embarrassedly around the room and determinedly not making eye-contact with Jones. "Emma's going to save this town from Regina, because she's the saviour. And in the book, you're her Prince."

Jones nodded understandingly, although he did seem slightly confused by the Prince title, and Emma wondered if Regina had brought up Henry's storybook theory with him, because Emma was pretty certain she hadn't. "Well, I have no doubt in Emma's abilities to save our town," Jones told Henry, kneeling so that they were the same height, and Henry's grin grew even wider. "However, as much as I would love to be Emma's prince, if she agreed, of course, I highly doubt I have the disposition required for royalty."

He winked up at Emma, and this was  _definitely_ getting to be too much, so she turned on her heel and wandered over to Mary-Margaret, who was too preoccupied by David feeding her cubes of cheese to have noticed whatever had happened between Emma and Jones.

She really didn't want to have to answer any more questions. Not when she wasn't sure she  _had_ answers anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you for the kudos/comments/etc. and thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me.

**Chapter 10**

Emma had been Sheriff for a couple of weeks and she had grown used to the fact that the Sheriff Station was a pretty boring place until the evening, when Keith and Leroy would make their way to the Rabbit Hole and start making trouble.

So a call from Mr Clark telling her to hurry to the Dark Star Pharmacy was rather unusual, but Emma was rather excited to have something to do other than digitizing files.

The pharmacy wasn't too far away, only a few minutes in the car, and when she arrived, she realised that the small shop was rather busy. The few times she'd visited, there had only been one other person in the shop, so the five customers made the place feel rather crowded.

Lacey was there, but the way she was standing - back against the wall and basket clutched to her chest - made Emma certain that it wasn't her who had been causing trouble. In fact, she looked as though she was wishing she wasn't in the shop at all.

Emma nodded at her in greeting and received an uncharacteristically shy nod in return. Clearly, Lacey didn't want to get drawn into the commotion, which Emma was happy to comply with. Instead, she turned her attention to the others, seeing Henry held tightly to Regina's side, two other children standing near him, their heads bowed and arms folded.

"What happened?" Emma asked, directing the question to her son, who was smiling at her.

Henry didn't answer, but looked up at Mr Clark. Before the pharmacist could say anything, however, Regina stepped forward, blocking Emma's view of Henry and fixing her with a derisive stare. "Now, Miss Swan, please remember that just because you had a…  _dubious_ past, it doesn't mean that Henry's a criminal." Emma just gaped at her, because the only reason for Regina to say  _anything_ like that was just to get in an insult before Emma started doing her job.

And, of course, she said it in front of Henry.

Not that he didn't know, because Regina's article had made sure of that, but Emma didn't understand Regina's apparent need to belittle her in front of Henry. People just didn't  _do_ that.

"What are you doing here" Regina asked, and Emma just raised an eyebrow. "Everything's taken care of."

"I'm the Sheriff." Emma stated dryly, and Regina scoffed, although she did step aside. "Being here is my job."

"Then do it." Regina snapped, her hand closing around Henry's upper arm as she tugged him towards the door. "Don't just stand there."

"Bye, Emma." Henry called back, even as he was pulled after his mother and out the door. Emma didn't have time to reply, so she just took a deep breath and turned back to face the pharmacist and the two children, who had guilt written clearly across their faces.

"Did you call their parents?" Emma asked, because not only was it clear that it was stealing she'd been called to deal with, but she knew the script, had been on the other side of it more than once.

Mr Clark sighed, irritation rife in his tone as he shook his head and replied. "The number they gave me was disconnected."

Another familiar line. Emma turned to look more closely at the children, noticing their red-rimmed eyes and their pale skin and messy hair and she already _knew_  that they had no parents to call. "Did you guys give Mr Clark a fake number?" she asked. They nodded together, as Emma expected, and the sheriff just sighed. "Then why's it disconnected?"

"Because our parents couldn't pay the bill." The young girl said quickly, not meeting Emma's eyes. Emma already knew she was lying.

"And you guys are just trying to help out?"

"Please.  _Please_ don't arrest us." pleaded the girl, her brother clinging to her arm and staring up at Emma with a wide-eyed, desperate look that Emma found uncomfortably familiar. She was certain she'd worn that exact expression more than once. "It will just make things worse for our parents."

Emma gave them a tight smile and then turned to the pharmacist. "I'll take care of it this time, but I can't find you doing this again." she stated, still talking to the children even as she rummaged through her pockets for enough money to buy the variety of objects. "One more time, and I have to bring your parents into this."

That alone should be enough to dissuade them for a while, although Emma understood that without anyone looking after them, desperation would soon drive them back to stealing.

With the objects in a paper bag, she led the two children to the side, bending down so she was at the same level as them. "Is everything alright? You can tell me." Neither of them said anything. "Well, can you tell me your names?"

"I'm Ava Zimmer." The girl stated, mumbling a thank you when Emma handed her the shopping. "This is my brother Nicolas."

"Nice to meet you." Emma told them both. "Do you know who I am?"

"The Sheriff." Ava grumbled.

"You can call me Emma." She told them calmly. "Now let's get you guys home, alright?"

They both nodded, and she stood back to let them pass in front of her on the way out of the shop, pausing when she heard Mr Clark speak again.

"It was only a matter of time." The pharmacist had mumbled, and Emma turned to see Lacey at the counter, looking furious and embarrassed by the man's comment. Emma followed Lacey's gaze to see that Mr Clark was bagging what looked like pregnancy tests.

Lacey looked up at Emma and just shook her head pleadingly, and Emma led the children out of the shop.

~~~*~~~

As Emma had expected, she'd let the children leave the Sheriff's car and followed them to an empty home. It had been easy to expect such actions when she'd done the same thing in the past, had used the exact same lies, and she had always wished someone was there to help her. Although, she knew that realistically, help would only be a return to social services.

She wanted it to be different for them.

However, now that she had the two children sat in her loft eating Mary-Margaret's cookies, Emma was at a loss about what to do.

"Do you know them?" Emma asked the teacher, flipping through the file she had picked up from the town hall on her way back to the loft. "Do they go to your school?"

Mary-Margaret sighed, looking over at the two children sat at their dining table. "I've seen them," the teacher admitted sadly, an unsurprising answer given that they were both wearing the elementary school uniform. "But I had no idea. I don't think anyone did."

Emma had expected that, but she didn't say anything, not when Mary-Margaret's disappointment in herself was clearly written across her face. "Ava and Nicolas Zimmer." Emma read aloud from the file, watching the siblings eating the food and murmuring to one another. "They told me that their mother was called Dory Zimmer, but she died a few years ago. No one remembers her, which is… rather unhelpful."

Mary-Margaret nodded in agreement. "And the father?"

"There isn't one." Emma said quietly. "Not one that they know. And because no one even remembers the mother, I don't know who to talk to."

"Well, what does social services say?" Emma clenched her jaw and looked away, because despite it being her job, she hadn't even attempted to make contact with them. "You didn't report them."

Emma exhaled angrily at Mary-Margaret's disapproval. "If I report them, I can't help them. They go into the system."

"The system that's there to help them." Mary-Margaret pointed out, but Emma simply rolled her eyes. The system hadn't helped  _her_  one bit.

"I know the system, Mary-Margaret. I was in it for sixteen years." Emma bit out, keeping her voice quiet enough so that the brother and sister wouldn't hear her. "Do you know what happens? Because I do. You get thrown into a home where you're nothing more than a meal ticket. Families get paid for the kids but the  _minute_ they're too much work, they get tossed out and it all starts over again."

"But they're not all like that."

"All the ones I was in were. And I was in a lot." Emma admitted bitterly, Mary-Margaret's expression softening when she looked at the Sheriff. "Look, I know that we can't exactly look after them ourselves. I want to look for their father. If they don't know him, then maybe he doesn't know they exist."

"And you think that if he knows, he'll want them?" Mary-Margaret questioned, clearly doubtful.

Emma swallowed and looked away. She didn't know that. She  _couldn't_. But she knew that part of her was hoping that she'd find their father and he'd want them. And then a more selfish part of her wasn't sure what she'd do if that happened, because if they could find their father and have him want them, then why couldn't that have ever happened to her? "I don't know." Emma replied simply, still refusing to look at Mary-Margaret just in case she knew. "But I do know that it's hard enough to find foster families to take one kid that isn't theirs, let alone two. It's their best shot, or-"

A sob interrupted Emma before she could finish, and she spun round to see Ava standing nearby, her eyes red with tears. "We're going to be separated?" she asked quietly, her voice hoarse.

"No." Emma promised firmly, ignoring Mary-Margaret's raised eyebrow. "That's not going to happen."

"Please don't let it." Ava mumbled, walking away before Emma could say anything else. She sat at her brother's side and began to eat another cookie. Emma stared at the two of them, her throat tight when she thought of what would happen if she couldn't keep her promise.

Even if she couldn't find their father, Emma was going to ensure that nothing would part them.

"How are you going to manage that?" Mary-Margaret whispered and Emma shrugged. "You know you shouldn't have promised that, don't you?"

"I promised that because I _am_ going to keep them together." Emma insisted, although she currently had no idea how she would manage such a promise. "I don't do false hope, Mary-Margaret. If I didn't think I could do it, I wouldn't have ever said otherwise."

~~~*~~~

Regina's deadline had forced Emma to work harder than she had in months. As certain as Emma had been that she would keep the brother and sister together, she hadn't counted on Regina contacting social services, and she definitely hadn't imagined she'd have to find their father within the day or else she'd be driving them to Boston.

Where they'd be split up.

If she didn't find anything in the mounds of files and papers she'd dug up, a pile of sheets with vague references to the Zimmer family, then her promise would be worthless and empty and she'd be doing what she hated most. Giving someone hope only to snatch it away.

Finding nothing, she dropped her head into her hands and took a few deep breaths. The case was too much,  _meant_ too much, and if she failed, she wasn't sure what she'd do.

"Any luck?" At the sound of Henry's voice, she raised her head up and tried to hide the fact that she'd felt so useless only minutes earlier.

"No." she mumbled, plastering on a fake hopeful expression before she turned to look at her son.

"I know who they are." Henry exclaimed, hurrying over and dropping his book on top of all the paperwork. Emma slid away from the table slightly, making space for Henry beside her so he could point at whatever he thought he'd found in the book. "They're brother and sister, lost, no parents…" He trailed off and gave her an expectant look, but Emma had no idea what he was implying. "Hansel and Gretel."

"Anything in there about the dad?" Emma asked. God, if she was asking Henry for answers from his  _book_ , she really did have nothing.

"Just that he abandoned them."

Emma exhaled loudly, following Henry's finger to look at the image of the family. "Great." she complained. "That sounds familiar. You do realise that whoever this guy is, he could be anywhere by now?"

"No, he's here." Henry stated, fixing Emma with a look of such certainty that she couldn't bring herself to do anything except ask him how he knew for sure. "Because no one leaves Storybrooke. No one comes here and no one goes. That's just the way it is."

She'd heard that theory before, more than once, and it still sounded completely ridiculous. However, she couldn't deny that the few times she  _had_ tried to leave town, it hadn't gone very well. It wasn't proof, but she couldn't discount Henry's words either.

"I suppose." Emma agreed cautiously, smiling when her son beamed up at her. "If he is here though, I'm going to find him."

Henry's words cheered her up, and after she handed him back the storybook, she returned to reading the papers with a renewed fervor. Henry took a few of the files too, clearly eager to lend a hand.

"Emma?" Henry asked suddenly, abandoning research and fixing Emma with a curious gaze. "What was he like?"

"I haven't found anything yet." Emma muttered, another file joining the pile of useless ones. She might have spent her life finding people, but she normally had more information than this. This man, well, she had no clues to  _start_ trying to hunt him down.

"Not their father." Henry said, taking a seat on the desk so he could look at Emma. "Mine."

Emma faltered, her hand hovering over the next file. She should have expected such a question, should have realised that this case would mean a lot to Henry as well as her, but she hadn't.

And now he wanted to know about  _his_ father, about Neal, and Emma had no idea what to do. She'd never even spoken Neal's name out loud since he abandoned her. She'd waited for two years in Tallahassee until she accepted he wasn't coming and then she'd locked away all the memories and lived with the lessons his desertion had taught her.

She didn't want to speak of him, and she definitely didn't want Henry to know what sort of man his father was.

It was  _Henry_ she was thinking of. Only Henry.

"I don't know…" Emma muttered, hoping her hesitance would be enough to stop the questions.

"Please?" She should have known that Henry would be persistent when it came to a topic that was important to him.

She just  _couldn't_ tell him about Neal, not when Henry believed so strongly in his stories of true love and fairy tales and happily ever after. He didn't need to know that his father had finally confirmed for her that those stories belonged in books and had no place in the real world.

But he looked so eager to hear about his father that Emma couldn't find it in herself to refuse. Besides, Henry was never going to meet Neal, so Emma doubted it would matter if she let him believe in a story far better than what had truly happened. "I was pretty young. I'd just gotten out of the foster system." She began, and at least that part wasn't a lie. "I got this job at a diner and, well, your dad was training to be a fireman. He'd come in every night and order coffee and pie and then complain that we weren't selling his favourite type of pie, but he always came back anyway."

It wasn't much of a story, more like a fantasy she had had when she was younger, of having someone who always came back for her, but it definitely sounded better than telling him that his father never came back at all.

"Did you get married?" Henry asked, but he seemed slightly preoccupied by his storybook, which was now open to the page of Princess Leia and Charles dancing. "Did you love him?"

"Of course I loved him." Emma stammered, because no matter what she felt towards Neal now, she wasn't about to tell Henry otherwise. "But we never married. We just… hung out a few times after work and then, life happened. I got into some trouble and-"

"You mean jail?"

"Yeah."

Henry sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't really remember. I thought that maybe, because you're Princess Leia and you have a prince who loves you, that maybe  _he_ was my dad."

Emma had no idea how to respond. She was still certain that, even if the curse was real (which it wasn't), it made no sense for her to be Leia. It didn't fit with the rest of Henry's stories at all, and now  _this_ made even less sense.

She remembered  _exactly_ who Henry's father was, and he was definitely not a prince. And honestly, she had to admit she'd rather have her memories of him instead of no memory at all..

"I'm not… Jones isn't… Never mind." She spluttered, because now she had thought his sentence through, did Henry think  _Jones_ was his dad? Emma had to make certain that idea went away. "Look, Henry. Your dad wasn't a prince, but…" Emma took in a deep breath, because her story before may have been false, but what she was about to say felt so much more dishonest. "Before I went to jail, I found out I was pregnant with you. I tried to tell your dad but I found out that he had died. Saving a family from a burning building. So yeah, your dad wasn't a prince but he  _was_  a hero."

Henry smiled and closed the book. Emma hoped that her lies had at least managed to dissuade him from the insane idea that his father was Prince Charles and answered enough of his questions so that he wouldn't bring the topic up again.

"Do you have anything of his?" He asked suddenly. "Something you can remember him by. Something I could see?"

For a second Emma wished she did have something from the made-up fireman, something she could give Henry as proof that his father really  _was_ a hero. But all she had was a keychain necklace, and she didn't want Henry to know that all she had kept from her time with his father was a reminder not to trust anyone.

So she lied again, and told Henry she had nothing.

And then, she had an idea. If she had held onto something from Neal, despite everything, perhaps Ava and Nicolas' mother had done something similar. And if she had, then maybe Ava and Nicolas had it in their possession.

If they did, then maybe, just maybe, she could find their father.

~~~*~~~

"So I figured that you might be able to help me." Emma said, even before she was fully though the entrance of the pawn shop, and when Jones looked up from whatever it was he was doing and grinned at her, Emma felt that maybe she  _would_ be able to find Ava and Nicolas' father.

"I'd like to, love, but I'd need more of an idea of  _how_ I can be of assistance." Jones said, patting the counter in invitation. The fact that he agreed to help, no questions asked, put a smile on Emma's face, the first one since she'd met Ava and Nicolas, and she hurried over to him and perched on the counter.

The moment she was beside him, he turned his entire attention to her, his gaze intense and warm, and when he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, Emma couldn't do anything but stare at him, her breath coming just a bit faster than usual.

"It's been a few days since your last visit." He said quietly, pulling his hand back the instant her hair was back in place. "It's wonderful to know you haven't forgotten about me, even if you're only visiting for work."

"It's not as if you've come to see me at the station." Emma pointed out before realising that this was the last conversation she wanted to have. Before he could reply, and he  _was_ going to, she dug the children's compass, the only object they had that had once belonged to their father, from her pocket and pressed it into his hand. "But that's not why I'm here. I thought you might be able to tell me if anyone bought this from here. I know you sell this sort of thing."

"Things?" Jones said, his fingers curling around the object and brushing against hers. "It's called a compass, Swan. And now that I know I'm welcome to surprise you at the station, I can guarantee you'll be seeing a lot more of me."

"Damnit. I knew I shouldn't have said that." Emma said teasingly, although the grin on her face quickly faded into a solemn line.. "Look, Jones, this has to be done fast. Do you know or not?"

"Unfortunately, I can't look at an object and tell you who it once belonged to." Jones told her, but he was already lifting a huge book onto the counter and opening it to the first page. "Why so urgent?"

For what felt like a very long time, Emma didn't answer and simply watched him run his finger along inked names of customers and objects.

But when he didn't ask again, she decided to tell him. "There are two children," she began and he raised his head to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "If I don't find their father before the end of today, I have to take them to Boston. I don't want to send them to the foster system, but more than that, I don't want to split them up."

"Of course not." Jones agreed, appearing more intent on reading through the sales record.

"I mean, they have one another, which is more than most orphans." She continued, slumping slightly as all her determination over how she couldn't let them be separated returned to her. "I can't let them lose that."

Jones took in a deep breath and then shook his head and Emma steeled herself to hear something else along the lines of 'bringing them to social services is best for them', remembering Mary-Margaret's response.

"I understand." Jones murmured quietly, an air of uneasiness suddenly surrounding him. "Being separated from a sibling is hard."

Emma frowned, and he looked so miserable and uncertain that she was reaching out to rest her hand on his shoulder before she even realised what she was doing. "You have a brother? A sister?"

"I did once." He said after another lengthy silence. "Liam."

He returned to the book again, and Emma watched him, her thumb occasionally brushing lightly against his bicep. She was reluctant to remove her hand when he still looked so downcast, so she just didn't.

"It will be harder for them if they're split up." he said eventually, having read through a few more pages without comment.

"Do you…" Emma began, halting when Jones slammed the book closed and huffed angrily. "You understand, don't you? You've been there?"

Pushing the book aside, he reached up to take her hand in his and lift it away from his arm and she let it drop to her side once he released it. "Aye." he said succinctly, turning away and taking a suspiciously long time to find more records. Not that Emma didn't understand why - she did - and he was already answering more questions than Emma would ever be willing to. "I'm a Lost One, much like you."

"Like me?" Emma repeated in surprise.

"An orphan." he clarified, and this time he wasn't even attempting to pretend that he was doing something else. He simply refused to look at her. "I know what it's like to know there's someone out there who can help you. The hope that comes with that knowledge, well, it makes everything worse when they don't come. It doesn't matter whether or not it's their choice, or if they simply  _can't_  reach you. It eats away at you until you have no hope for anything."

"False hope is worse than no hope at all." Emma muttered, and she'd thought of her own motto more in the past two days than she had since arriving in Storybrooke.

The phrase was apparently enough to make him look at her again and step closer. "Exactly." he agreed, and she still hadn't figured out how he knew she was an orphan too, but she didn't care when he seemed to read her so easily and yet didn't seem to judge her at all. "Emma, I know what it's like to lose a brother. I lost Liam more than once. I've had him…  _taken_ from me. If I can help prevent another child from experiencing the same, I will do anything to aid you."

"If we find the father, then hopefully that won't happen." Emma said firmly, and this time, it was the same sad, perceptive look that Mary-Margaret had given her that was gracing his face.

"Look, love, I can see what you want to happen. A heart-warming family reunion would indeed be touching." he warned her carefully, as though he was expecting her to deny his words. "I understand why you want it. I truly do. However, my father chose to leave me and the same could happen for these children."

"I know." Emma snapped, because she had coped with the understanding from before, but she didn't need any words of caution. "I am  _well_ aware that not every family works out. But you don't know anything about their father. I mean, what if he doesn't even know about them? What if, given the choice, he  _would_ chose them?"

Jones said nothing more.

They worked together in the quiet for almost an hour, reading unfamiliar names written next to strange-sounding objects. Unfortunately, they found nothing. People had bought so many strange things, but not one compass appeared to have been sold.

"Perhaps one of the customers who bought one of my maps?" Jones suggested after Emma grew particularly irritated and let out a frustrated groan. "I doubt we'll find a record of the owner in any of these books, but such a fine compass may have belonged to a man interested in navigation?"

"I think that we're getting desperate." Emma said, because hoping that Ava and Nicolas' father had bought a map from Jones once was surely grasping at straws. "Then again, it's the best idea we've got."

~~~*~~~

"He doesn't want the kids."

Emma had spent hours questioning every man who had ever bought one of Jones' maps, and it was only when she finally felt like there was no chance of success that she arrived at the garage of Michael Tillman. He had been the only man to recognise Dory Zimmer's name, and when she'd held the compass out, he'd taken it in his hands and confirmed it had once been his.

And then he'd looked at a picture of the twins, insisted they couldn't be his until Emma had pushed him into believing it, and then he'd looked her in the eye and said no.

Emma had officially run out of time and she didn't know how to tell the siblings that she'd failed.

"And you don't want to tell them." Mary-Margaret stated, the teacher having joined her on the street when Emma called and begged for her help.

"I can't." Emma admitted, running her finger across the metal of her Sheriff's badge and wishing, not for the first time that day, that she hadn't taken the job. "All I'll be telling them is that the false hope I gave them is exactly that."

Mary-Margaret sighed, looking up at one of the windows of the loft and waving up at the children. "The truth can be painful, Emma, but it can also be cathartic."

"I agree with the painful part." Emma said bitterly, and unlike Mary-Margaret, she couldn't look up at the children and smile and wave like everything was okay. "But I was hoping that they wouldn't have to realise that yet."

"Well, look, you told Henry the truth that his father's dead." Mary-Margaret said, as if trying to comfort her, but Emma could only laugh at the irony of the example the teacher had chosen . "He's handling it great."

"What he's handling is a story about some made up guy who saved a few lives." Emma told the teacher, running her hand across her face and sighing in exhaustion. "I don't think great would be right word if I told him just what sort of person his father really was."

"Emma." Mary-Margaret reprimanded, but Emma simply shrugged the comment aside.

"How about we hide them?" She suggested, and Mary-Margaret gaped at her in response. "Just until we can find a family for them. Someone to take care of them."

"Yes, Emma, hiding the twelve year olds is a good plan." Mary-Margaret said disbelievingly. "We'll just stick them in your room while David and I have the romantic candle-lit dinner that I've planned for this evening, and I'll pretend that nothing insane is going on."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Emma," The teacher sounded resigned, and Emma couldn't bear the pitying look clear in the teacher's eyes. "Maybe there  _isn't_ an idea. Maybe you just have to-"

Mary-Margaret's voice trailed off, her stare locked on someone behind Emma. Emma already knew who it was, and what it meant.

Time had finally run out.

~~~*~~~

It had been Jones' words on her mind when Emma began to drive the twins out of town. She'd thought of how sincere he had been when he spoke of losing hope, how he had promised to do anything to help her and the children,

And it had been those words that reminded her that she  _hadn't_ tried everything.

So what if she played dirty? It had been far too important to her, to  _everyone_ , for her to play safe and fail.

Except it had hurt so much when her last-ditch plan at the town line worked. She had  _wanted_ to be happy, had managed a smile, but seeing a father take one look at his children and decide they could be a family only made her wonder why her own parents had decided otherwise.

Why  _so many_ people had decided otherwise.

And after Michael Tillman had taken his children home, Emma had gotten in her car and just sat there.

Eventually, when she no longer felt totally broken and unwanted, she drove home.

It was dark when she walked inside, the only light being the soft orange glow of candlelight, and for a second Emma simply stood in the doorway and wondered what was going on. Then she realised that Mary-Margaret's comment about having David over hadn't been hypothetical.

Then again, Emma had heard Mary-Margaret mention that David had had more than one meeting with Kathryn over the past couple of weeks, so she was hardly surprised that Mary-Margaret had planned a romantic evening just for the two of them.

The couple were sat at one end of the dining table, chairs pushed close together and Mary-Margaret's foot trailing soft patterns on David's thigh. They were holding hands, David eating his meal clumsily due to the fact his fork was in the wrong hand, and murmuring to each other in soft, warm voices.

God, if Emma had known, she wouldn't have come back yet.

But Mary-Margaret didn't seem phased by Emma's sudden appearance, or the fact that she was hovering awkwardly by the door. "Emma!" she said cheerily, releasing David's hand and hurrying over to her. David joined them, his arm around Mary-Margaret's shoulder and grinning at Emma. "We weren't expect you back from Boston so soon. What happened?"

"Their dad." Emma stated, guessing from David's encouraging nod that he'd already been filled in on the day's events. "He showed up. Changed his mind."

"Changed his mind?" Mary-Margaret asked with a knowing smile. "Just like that?"

"He might have had a little nudge." Emma explained, letting Mary-Margaret hustle her over to the dining table and watching, vaguely amused, as David fetched her a plate and some cutlery, despite her protestations that she really didn't want to interrupt their date.

"They found their father." Mary-Margaret breathed, and it felt strange to have David and Mary-Margaret fussing over her and caring about what she had to say, but it wasn't unwelcome. "That's great."

"It really is." David said, pressing a kiss to Mary-Margaret's cheek as he walked past her, returning to Emma with a glass of wine and a smile. "I definitely voted for the right Sheriff."

"Were you not sure?" Mary-Margaret asked, laughing at the cheeky, boyish grin that graced her boyfriend's face as he shook his head in response. "Now, Emma, are  _you_ alright?"

"Yeah." Emma answered quickly. Maybe if Mary-Margaret was alone, then she'd say more, but she barely knew David. Then David's grin softened, and when he fixed his gaze on Emma, she felt the same comfort she found with Mary-Margaret. "I guess I just wondered what it would be like."

Mary-Margaret smiled sadly. The couple was now sat beside Emma, Mary-Margaret's head on David's shoulder, and when David reached out to pat her shoulder, Emma felt strangely at ease. "Maybe you'll find out. You can't give up."

"I don't know." Emma said, taking a long sip of wine. "I kind of think giving up might be the best plan. It's been long enough. I think I need to let it go."

"No, you don't."

"I do. If they wanted to know me, they wouldn't be so hard to find." Emma admitted, no longer hungry. "Look, if there's an explanation for why they abandoned me, one that I can understand, then it's got to be something crazy. Even crazier than Henry's theory."

"Henry's theory?" David asked, turning a confused look to Mary-Margaret. "What's this?"

"You know, that you're my Prince Charming." Mary-Margaret explained in a loud whisper, and Emma exhaled loudly when her answer led to the couple sharing a kiss.

They didn't need an explanation. Emma doubted date night would be improved by the revelation that Henry believed the couple to be her parents, and it was that reason that made her down the rest of her wine and then stand from the table, the other two still thoroughly wrapped up in one another.

"I'm going to go." she said, the announcement enough to make Mary-Margaret break the kiss. "I figure you two might enjoy some time alone. Besides, I need some air."

"Oh, Emma, you really don't have to leave." Mary-Margaret insisted apologetically, reaching out towards Emma. "Really."

"I know I don't have to." Emma told her, because she did feel surprisingly welcome. "But I think I need a slightly stronger drink. And after being left babysitting those two kids all day, Mary-Margaret, you deserve some adult time."

"Emma!" Mary-Margaret said, blushing. "It's just a dinner."

"Sure." Emma laughed, checking that she had her keys in her pocket before heading for the door. "That's what I meant. See you later, David. And Mary-Margaret, don't wait up."

She shut the door before they could comment further, deciding that she would definitely wait a couple of hours before returning home.

~~~*~~~

After another talk with Henry about his made-up father and an interesting encounter with a new visitor to Storybrooke, Emma was more than ready for the day to end. However, she felt she owed David and Mary-Margaret more time alone after the hell that the day had been, so instead of returning to the loft, she was simply wandering through the streets.

The Rabbit Hole had seemed tempting at first, but when she wandered in and saw no one she was willing to spend the time with, she'd decided against a trip there.

It was only when she noticed the looming black silhouette of Jones' ship at the docks that she figured he should know the fate of the twins as well, and it was for no other reason that she made her way towards the vessel.

Emma crossed the deck carefully, making sure not trip on any of the wires that were strewn across the wooden floor, and then she rapped on the cabin door. She could hear movement inside, but it took him a while to answer, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she waited.

Her jaw dropped slightly when he finally opened the door, because his hair was mussed, his eyeliner smudged, and he was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt and black flannel trousers with anchors printed on them, and he looked so much  _softer_ than usual.

"I didn't realise you might be sleeping." Emma stammered, but Jones simply smiled sleepily at her. "I wouldn't have knocked."

"It's no trouble, Swan." He answered with a shrug. "I had hoped to have an early night after a long afternoon at the hospital, but being with you is preferable to that."

"Oh, right," Emma muttered, because she had nothing else to say to that. "I just wanted you to know that it all worked out. I found their father and they're with him now."

"That's wonderful." Jones said, his smile widening. "I'm glad."

"Yeah," Emma nodded at him, a small smile dancing on her lips when she realized how much lighter he looked. "I just thought that, after everything you said, you'd want to know how it went."

"How considerate of you, Swan." He stepped through the door, moving closer to her, and Emma took in a shaky breath when he angled his hips towards her and levelled her with a grin that was just  _indecent_. "It's nice to know I'm…  _on your mind_."

"Don't." Emma ordered, although she doubted she sounded at all commanding. "I'm not in the mood."

Jones' grin faded completely, his hand rising to scratch behind his ear as he swallowed and looked down at the floor. Then he nodded and made to close the door, but before he could, Emma thrust her hand out to hold it open.

"Wait." she whispered, refusing to meet his gaze even when she felt his eyes on her. "I can't go home yet. David and Mary-Margaret are there and I don't want to-"

"Interrupt anything?" he interjected with a short chuckle.

"Yeah." she confirmed with a breathless laugh of her own, fidgeting awkwardly when he fixed her with an expectant look. "I guess I'm wondering if Superman 2 is still a possibility."

"No," he answered, confusing her by stepping aside to allow her into the cabin. "I returned it to the library a few days ago. I have some other films that I picked up lately though, if you're open to other suggestions."

"I think that could work." she told him, walking past him and through another couple of doors until she was in his room. The space was candlelit, just as the loft had been, but when she looked around for a light switch, it didn't appear that there was any electric lighting available in the room.

On the desk, just next to the small television, was a pile of video tapes and books. Emma recognised the titles of a few of the novels - Slaughterhouse-5, Thief of Time - but the only one she'd read was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. She told him as much, as she examined the films he had.

"I suppose I might read that one first then." he replied, taking the book from the desk to read the blurb. "What do you want to watch, love?"

"Time Bandits looks... interesting." She decided, handing the tape to him and then settling herself on the bed. He took a while to set everything up, and Emma was barely thinking when she asked why he wasn't wearing his prosthetic, although the leather brace was still on underneath his sleeve.

He paused, and Emma grimaced apologetically. "I prefer not to wear it when I'm alone. That hand is just a useless ornament." he explained briefly, tersely. "I'd rather something more useful."

"Like what?" she asked, her eyes on him as he sat beside her on the bed, the television remote in his hand.

"A hook, perhaps?" he suggested, and Emma laughed, leaning into him to nudge his shoulder with her own.

"Read Peter Pan recently?" she teased, but Jones didn't reply, he just stared at her for a few minutes, and then the familiar warmth returned to his gaze, concern evident in his expression.

"Swan, are you alright?"

She swallowed, because she'd already been asked that question that day, and she wasn't particularly fond of talking about her feelings. "Could be better." she answered truthfully, finding it unusually easy to admit that to him. "I think it all just cut a bit too close to the bone today."

"I can imagine." Jones murmured, as he started the film. Then, the same way he had weeks before, after Graham's death, he cupped the side of her head and pulled her into his side, tucking her head just under his chin.

This time though, instead of letting her go, he just moved his hand so his arm was slung across her shoulders, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair.

It wasn't really her sort of film, although Jones seemed to be watching rather intently, and despite her wish that she'd be distracted from everything she'd been forced to think about during the day, all she could think of was that she'd lied to Henry, and she'd done it with barely any second thoughts.

Emma didn't know if she'd done the right thing.

So she tried not to think about it, tried to pretend that she knew what was going on in the movie, but after an hour of failing, she couldn't even stay quiet anymore. She wanted to know what  _Jones_ thought, even if the truth hurt.

"Henry asked about his dad today." she began quietly, and as soon as she spoke, Jones paused the video and turned to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. "I told him he was dead. I lied."

The static on screen was irritating, the television emitting a quiet buzzing, but when she had all of Jones' attention on her, she didn't really hear it. "Are you going to tell him otherwise?"

"I don't think I can." Emma mumbled. "I had the chance to tell the truth, when he asked about him again, but I just kept up the lie. It's probably too late now."

Jones bit his lip, his hold on her tightening. "Do you want to tell me  _why_ you lied?" he asked, but she could tell he wasn't expecting an answer. And so she said nothing and instead just nuzzled slightly closer to him, her nose brushing his neck. "Too painful?"

Emma nodded. "His name was Neal. Basically, without him, Sidney wouldn't have had anything to write about me."

She said nothing further, but she could feel Jones looking down at her, his entire body tense, and she wondered if he was angry because he had an idea of what Neal might have done, or if he just didn't know what to say. But then she felt him turn his head towards her, felt him press a light kiss to her hair, and she stopped thinking about Neal.

Emma looked up at him through her eyelashes, noticing he was watching the film again, although she hadn't even realised he'd pressed play. Her gaze lingered on his lips and she had to admit that this, even without alcohol, was warm and  _easy_.

And she'd thought it before, but it was only as she raised her hand to grasp at her keychain necklace that she started to understand just how  _dangerous_  Jones was to her. But for a moment, before she could quell the thought, she thought that as a bail bondsperson, she was rather fond of dangerous.

It was a silly thought, but at the moment, she didn't care. She just rested her head on his shoulder, relaxing into him when she felt his fingers combing through her hair, the rings occasionally catching her hair and tugging it painfully, but she didn't mind when it reminded her that he was actually there.

After the day she'd had, she needed this and, for once, she wasn't going to let herself try to understand why she needed it with him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos! Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me :)

**Chapter 11**

The biggest problem with the open layout of the loft was that whenever Mary-Margaret's alarm goes off bright and early every morning, Emma could hear its chimes from her bed on the balcony. And given the choice, Emma would always prefer to sleep in.

But it was also impossible to return to sleep when Mary-Margaret started to wander around and the entire apartment filled with the smell of bacon and eggs. Sometimes Mary-Margaret played old eighties music, very quietly but loud enough to keep Emma awake.

That morning, Emma was rather certain that the alarm had gone off even earlier than usual, although she had been feeling especially exhausted since the affair with the Tillman siblings only a couple of days before.

Although, when Mary-Margaret shouted Emma's name up the stairs, Emma wondered if maybe there was a reason for the early alarm.

So she threw on a baggy jumper and a pair of leggings, because she wasn't prepared to sit in a long t-shirt and her underwear as Mary-Margaret spoke about whatever urgent matter was on her mind, and then hurried down the stairs to join Mary-Margaret at the kitchen island.

"I'm guessing there's a reason you woke me up at this ridiculous hour?" Emma grumbled, because she'd planned to sleep in just a bit longer than usual before heading in to work. "Although, I forgive you seeing as you seem to have made me breakfast too."

"Good." Mary-Margaret said with a nervous smile. Emma fixed her with a curious look, ignoring the bacon and scrambled eggs that Mary-Margaret put in front of her. "You know I wouldn't have woken you if I didn't want to talk."

"Is everything okay?" Emma asked cautiously, because Mary-Margaret was fidgeting anxiously. "What is it?"

"Right," Mary-Margaret sat beside Emma, her entire body tense, her hands tangled together, but she was smiling widely. "Okay. So you know how David has been living at Granny's since he woke from his coma?"

"I do." Emma answered, and when Mary-Margaret's smile widened, Emma felt dread rising through her because she thought she knew  _exactly_ where the conversation was going. "Why?"

"Well, I may have suggested that he live here." Mary-Margaret couldn't meet Emma's gaze, and Emma's heart was beating too fast. She had  _known_ this couldn't last, but she hadn't expected it be so soon.

"Isn't it a bit early for you two to be living together?" Emma stammered, because it had been two months at  _most_ since Mary-Margaret and David had begun their relationship and Emma had no idea what to do if Mary-Margaret didn't have a place for her anymore.

"I don't think anything can be too early when it's true love." Mary-Margaret said, with that same hopeful tone that always coloured her voice when she spoke of love and of  _David_. "And he needs a home, Emma. I'd love for it to be with me."

"Oh." Emma said stiffly, no longer hungry or tired. "Right. I get it."

Mary-Margaret's smile grew, if possible, even wider, and the teacher looked so happy about  _living with David_  that Emma couldn't bring herself to ask whether or not that meant that she would be forced out of the two-person flat.

She knew the story. And she knew that Mary-Margaret wouldn't admit it, but Emma would be leaving sooner or later because a new couple like David and Mary-Margaret wouldn't want Emma around all the time.

Emma pushed her food away without a word and stumbled back upstairs to dress quickly in jeans and a shirt, ignoring Mary-Margaret's questions from the room below. She had to get out of the loft, because soon it wasn't going to be her home and she needed to get used to that. She couldn't deny Mary-Margaret her happiness with David, but at the same time she couldn't stay in the apartment and pretend she was okay.

The teacher stopped Emma at the door, looking so concerned that it  _hurt_ and Emma had no idea what to say. "Emma, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Emma snapped, pushing past the other woman in order to leave. "Nothing's wrong. I'll sort my stuff out later. Just give me a bit of time to figure things out."

She heard Mary-Margaret call after her, something about she had misunderstood, but Emma couldn't listen. Instead, she ran.

~~~*~~~

The severe weather warning was a pretty good distraction from all the thoughts rolling through Emma's mind. The clouds were already making the entire town as dark as dusk despite it being early morning, but the rain had yet to start falling.

Except even as she considered exactly what she might need to do once the storm grew more severe, her main thoughts were about Mary-Margaret and David and the home she no longer had.

"Are you busy, love?"

Emma started when she heard Jones' voice, turning in her seat to see him striding into the station, his usual leather jacket replaced by a bulky waterproof coat. When he noticed she was looking at him, he grinned questioningly.

"You look silly in that coat." she explained, which made him chuckle.

"Unfortunately, not everyone can look good in a raincoat, Swan." he joked, crossing the room to stand beside her, her awareness of him growing with each step towards her.

"No, no, you look fine." she reassured, biting her lip when she realised what she'd said. Jones smirked in response. "It's just different."

Another chuckle, but not even Jones was enough to distract her from the idea of having to find another place to live, of being forced out of the place she'd grown comfortable in, so after their brief discussion, she fell silent.

She felt him watching her as she googled how to prepare for a storm and she  _knew_ she was being far too intent on her search than required, but she needed to concentrate on  _something_. After about five minutes of silence, she felt his hand on her shoulder, the touch light and hesitant but  _there._  Then, when she didn't move away from him, she felt more pressure, his hand warm and firm and comforting.

"How are you, Swan?" he asked as she exhaled shakily and leant back from the computer, leant  _into_ his touch. "You seem distressed. Is there something wrong with the Google or is it something more personal?"

She breathed in sharply, not looking up at him but able to see his concerned gaze reflected slightly in the monitor. She didn't want to tell him, didn't want to admit she was upset that the woman who had been kind enough to offer her a room no longer had the space for her. After all, Mary-Margaret had had no reason to offer her a home in the first place, and it was her right to take that home away when she needed to.

"Why are you here?" she snapped, and his hand drew back and left her cold. "I'm really not in the mood for company right now."

"I simply wanted to see you, Swan." he answered quietly, and,  _God_ , Emma was rubbish at this. Jones had been a friend - a good friend - for weeks, and if she was going to lose Mary-Margaret, she didn't want to lose Jones too. "I suppose I should have contacted you in advance and made sure you were welcome to receiving visitors."

"I'm not a museum. I said it once before, you can just show up here." she muttered quietly in apology. "I'm just not going to be particularly fun to be around today."

"I'll be the judge of that." He replied, and then he gently turned her chair around so that she was looking at him and took her chin gently in his hand, angling her face up so that she could only see him. "Now, how about I assist you with loading all the ropes and emergency supplies into your vehicle and then we can get lunch?"

His thumb brushed the curve of her chin and then he pulled his hand back, and Emma's eyelashes fluttered, her stare locked on Jones and, although she wasn't sure  _why_ she couldn't speak, all she could do was nod at him.

Jones tilted his head expectantly and Emma realised that the correct response to his words involved her getting up and starting to sort out the car, so she did just that. She loaded a pile of ropes into his arms and then picked up a couple of boxes of supplies, leading him out of the station towards the police car.

It still wasn't raining, but the wind was bitingly cold and Emma wished she had remembered to bring a jacket of her own out of the apartment, instead of leaving with just her thin silk shirt.

Jones had returned into the station to pick up a few more things when Emma heard the irritatingly familiar sound of heels, turning from the trunk of her car to see Regina approaching. "Look, Regina, if you're here to blame me for the storm, you're taking things a bit too far."

"No," Regina said with a roll of her eyes, a distasteful curl to her lips as she took in Emma's weather-inappropriate outfit. "I need you to look into something… Sheriff. Someone's in town. Someone new."

"I know." Emma answered with a shrug. Visiting a town wasn't exactly a crime, although after her warm welcome to Storybrooke, she would hardly be surprised if Regina treated it as such. "I gave him directions to Granny's the other night."

"You  _talked_ to him?" Regina asked disbelievingly.

"Talked to who?" Jones had reappeared and asked the question before Regina had a chance to say anything more. The atmosphere changed, Regina's expression hardening when she caught sight of the pawnbroker. "Ah, Regina. Unfortunately, I can't say it's nice to see you."

"Same for you, Jones." Regina snapped, glancing between Emma and Jones and then rolling her eyes. "I can say that I'm hardly surprised to find you here following Miss Swan around."

"Are you here to assist with the storm preparation, Madame Mayor, or are you simply here to hinder us?" Jones said, his voice harsh. "I would have assumed that someone in your position would care about the well-being of the town. Then again, I know you, so I'd guess the latter is far more likely."

"I'm an elected official, Jones. Of course I care." Regina snarled, and Emma twisted around to see his expression, a mixture of incredulity and amusement, and she was pretty sure that Jones, like her, had detected the lie in the Mayor's words. "Now, Miss Swan, what did the visitor say?"

"He asked for directions." Emma repeated slowly, still looking between Regina and Jones because it had been the first time she had heard such viciousness between the two of them. "What's the big deal? Who is he?"

"I don't know." Regina admitted. "I asked around but no one seems to know anything. There's something about him. Something familiar."

"Familiar?" she questioned. "Perhaps he's one of the untold millions you cursed."

"What?" Regina said after a second's hesitation, shooting Jones an angry look the second the word curse was mentioned. "What curse?"

Jones interrupted just as Emma opened her mouth to explain. "Shall we discuss a hypothetical curse, love, or shall we try to find out who this mysterious visitor is? I assume you have more reason for involving the Sheriff than the man's presence?"

Regina huffed, clearly irritated by Jones' interjection but she didn't bother returning to the topic. "Look, Miss Swan. You're going to find out who he is, what he wants and what he's doing here and you're going to do it because I asked you to. And because you'll see it's the right thing to do."

"And why am I going to do that?" Emma wondered, because if there was one thing she was going to make sure of, it was that the Sheriff's department no longer did things on Regina's command. "As hard as you tried to find one in my case, there is no law against visiting Storybrooke."

"You're going to do that because he was in front of my house." Regina said firmly, stepping closer to Emma and fixing her with a disconcertingly desperate look. "Taking a particular interest in the one thing we both care about. Henry."

Emma took in a deep breath and then nodded. "I'll look into him."

"Good." Regina said with a small smirk, turning on her heel and striding away.

"So there's someone new in town?" Jones asked, shutting the trunk of the car and then leaning against it. "Careful, Swan. Soon you might not be the only one in town that our lovely mayor has a vendetta against."

"Surprisingly, Jones, that doesn't really bother me."

~~~*~~~

Jones had been at her side all morning, even though she was still certain that she was making terrible company. They hadn't even really talked, but it seemed that he wasn't going to leave unless she told him to go away, and she wasn't going to do that.

She might have felt miserable but she felt a bit better with Jones beside her.

Besides, with all the calls she was receiving from the townspeople about the storm, she was glad she wasn't dealing with everything by herself. It had been busy enough when the storm was only a warning, but once the rain began, it seemed as though everyone and their dog had some sort of question or problem that apparently only the Sheriff could handle.

And, yeah, she knew Jones had a shop of his own, but she didn't feel like reminding him of that just in case he took it as a hint that she wanted him to leave.

"You need to go and get a raincoat." He kept saying, especially once the rain was forceful enough to beat a loud, furious rhythm on the car. His concern was irritating, not only because of how repetitive it was, but because the warmth it always caused within her.

After she'd helped Mr Clark with what he dubbed an emergency but turned out to be a leaking roof, something she insisted was better suited for a handyman than the Sheriff, Emma decided that it was time for her lunch break.

Jones hurried out of the car to open her door for her before she had the opportunity to do it herself, an act of chivalry that Emma had never experienced before. He held it open even as she just stared up at him, his hair plastered to his forehead and the rain bouncing off the fabric of his raincoat, and his eyes were  _so blue_.

"Lunch, my lady?" he prompted, when Emma didn't move. She swallowed and blinked a few times, and then slid out of the car, an angry grumble escaping her when she felt the cold rain against her skin.

"This storm sucks." she stated with a shiver, wandering past him to start heading into Granny's, jumping when there was a bright flash of lightning.

"Emma." Jones said quietly, and she couldn't take a step further once his hand had closed around her arm. "If this weather isn't enough to convince you to go home and fetch your coat, perhaps the fact that I can see right through your shirt might."

"Really?" Emma asked, her eyebrow raised. She was hardly concerned about the transparency of her shirt, as she tended to wear rather thin clothes anyway, but she was rather amused by his new tactic. "That's your angle now?"

"I had to try it." Jones said with a suggestive grin. "However I must assure you, Swan, that my insistence on you wearing a coat has nothing to do with my appreciation of the view."

"And here I thought you were being all chivalrous today." she muttered, another shiver racking through her even as she tilted her head towards the car door.

"I'm only worried about your well-being, Swan." he told her, and it took her a few moments to notice he was shrugging out of his own rain-coat. It was pouring so heavily that as soon as the rain coat was off, his dry clothes were immediately drenched. "But if you really do refuse to return to your loft for whatever reason, then take my coat. I'll go and fetch yours for you."

"What?" she asked in surprise, shocked into stillness as Jones bundled her into his coat. "You really don't need to do this. I mean, we're going into Granny's. As far as I know, it's not raining in there."

"I imagine you'll be just as stubborn after lunch."

"If you're really going back to Mary-Margaret's loft for me, then you should be the one in the coat." she pointed out. "This doesn't make much sense."

"There's no guarantee you'll be at Granny's when I return." Jones said, and really, he was just as stubborn as Emma. She zipped the coat up, her hands shaking slightly until Jones took them in his, raising them up and breathing over them, his breath a soft, heated caress that thawed her fingers, yet only made her shaking worse. "What with all the assistance that the townsfolk seem to require today."

He released her, Emma immediately shoving her hands into her pockets, and then he made to leave. "Jones?" she called after him, and he turned to look at her. Her breath caught, because she saw how his gaze darted over her in his coat, his smile strangely tender, and he looked  _so good_ in the rain. "Don't you want to know why I won't go home?"

"Not if you don't want to tell me."

And then he walked away.

Emma didn't watch him, the rain too heavy for her to stand there and look at him. Instead, she wandered into Granny's, shaking her entire body to rid herself of the rainwater that still hadn't soaked into Jones' coat yet.

When she raised her head, she saw the mysterious visitor sat in one of the booths. Although she hadn't intended to search him out that day, not with so many other things going on, she wasn't going to ignore him when she had so many questions.

"We need to talk." she announced before she even reached him, and the visitor turned to look at her.

"Why?"

"Because you're suspicious."

She took a seat opposite him and leant on the table, moving closer so she could get a better view of him and his strange wooden box that he had in front of him. "Sitting here, out in the open, drinking coffee." The man said, looking around the diner and then fixing her with a wry smirk. "I wonder what kind of hell I would've raised had I ordered a donut."

Emma was not impressed. She just frowned at him. "You were talking to Henry."

The man chuckled. "You mean that I was talking to the little kid who came up to me and asked me questions?" he rephrased, resting his elbows on the edge of the table and leaning towards her. "Is that unusual for him? Being curious and precocious?"

"What were  _you_ doing outside his house?"

"My bike broke down." He answered easily, his blasé attitude annoying Emma. "It happens."

Emma took in a deep breath, because this man and his attitude were the last thing she needed. She reclined backwards and folded her arms across her chest, glancing over him suspiciously. "Your mysterious box. What's in it?".

"It's awfully frustrating not knowing, isn't it?" He asked with another chuckle.

"There are many things frustrating me." Emma told him. "Not knowing what's inside your box is  _not_ one of them."

The man stared at her for an uncomfortably long time, but Emma refused to look away. Eventually, he rolled his eyes and reached across the box to open its latch, although he didn't lift the lid. "Well, you're no fun. How about you let me buy you a drink sometime and I'll tell you right now."

"How about you just tell me?" she snapped.

Again, irritatingly, he just laughed. "No. I'll make you wait. I'm going to make you watch me carry it around. Hauling it to strange and mysterious places. And with each passing moment, the mystery will become more tantalizing. What could possibly be inside that box?"

Emma inhaled, weighing the two options in her mind, his fingers tapping aggravatingly on the clasp of the box. A drink with him wasn'tsomething she wanted, but she also knew how irritable she'd get if she did have to watch him move the box around town. "And if I agree to get a drink with you, you'll tell me right now?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Emma agreed, her tone more spiteful than it needed to be, but the man only grinned at her. "One drink."

His fingers finally stilled and he opened up the box, revealing a typewriter inside. Emma hadn't expected that, although she wasn't entirely sure  _what_ she had expected, but it definitely wasn't worth all the mystery.

"I'm a writer."

"That's why you're here?" She asked, but she didn't pay attention to his answer as Jones had just entered the diner, her own coat in his hands and dripping wet. When he saw her, he shook the coat in her direction and she beamed over at him.

The visitor turned to see who she was looking at, and an unexplainable frown was on his face when he turned back to face Emma. The moment Jones arrived at the table, the visitor stood up and tucked the box under his arm.

"What about that drink?" Emma questioned.

"I said sometime." The visitor said, pushing past Jones on his way out the diner.

When Emma looked up at Jones, she saw his jaw was tense and his fist was clenched tightly around the fabric of her coat. "Here, Swan." he said stiffly, tossing the coat towards her and then sitting where the writer had been only minutes before. "Was that the man Regina was talking about?"

"It was." She said with a nod, passing him a laminated menu that he took but seemed uninterested in. "He wouldn't tell me what he was doing until I agreed to get a drink with him."

"Didn't sound like it." Jones murmured. "In fact, he seemed happy to leave without buying you a drink. I think the reminder was rather unnecessary."

She raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he seemed to plaster on a disinterested mask as he focussed on the menu. "Thanks, by the way. For picking up my coat."

"Mary-Margaret was in. She asked if you were alright." Jones said in response, and their conversation suddenly felt stilted and difficult and Emma had no idea why. "I didn't answer."

"Okay."

"I'm getting rather used to seeing you two here together." It was Ruby speaking, and when Emma glanced up at her, she seemed to be rather amused by the uncomfortable air surrounding Emma and Jones. "Shall I bring you two the usual? A lasagne and a burger? Onion rings to share?"

"I'll have my own onion rings today, Ruby." Jones said quickly, Emma's mind distracted by the fact that they apparently had a usual order now and startlingly upset that Jones wanted to change it. "But other than that, it sounds good to me."

~~~*~~~

Emma had managed to coax Jones back into conversation during the course of their meal, and once she had paid for both meals, she'd handed him back his raincoat and the two of them had returned to solving the various troubles of Storybrooke's citizens.

And then once it reached six in the evening and the storm was making everything as dark as night, Jones told her that he had to go and make sure his ship had weathered the storm. With Emma still not ready to face Mary-Margaret, she decided to accompany him.

His main concern was that he'd forgotten to pack away any of the wires he had trailing across the deck to the power socket on the docks, so once Emma had parked the squad car back at the station, the two of walked side by side to the ship.

When they got to his ship, Emma didn't want to leave.

She liked his cabin, liked his  _company,_ and he'd made what could have been an utterly miserable day into a  _good_ day and she didn't want that day to end just yet.

And although things felt just a bit too much, she changed into the too-big flannel trousers, these ones with small sailboats on, that he offered her as well as the long-sleeved t-shirt and then she curled up on his bed and waited for him to re-enter the room.

He was wearing the same pyjamas as he had during her last visit, the adorable ones with the anchors on, and he'd taken off his prosthetic hand and for a second it felt too weirdly domestic and she wanted to run.

Except she had nowhere to go.

"I apologise that I can't provide you with a hot cocoa or something else to warm you up." He said, sitting beside her on the bed and then hesitantly draping his arm around her shoulder.

She didn't move away, but she didn't draw closer like she had the time before.

"I've become far too reliant on electricity." he continued, and Emma felt as though he was talking simply to break the silence. "Not too long ago, I had a wood-burning stove I could have used to make you a hot drink, but eventually even I gave into the lure of an electric stove. I didn't refit the ship, but I have no wood to use."

"I don't need a hot cocoa, Jones." she admitted. "I just, well, I just need to stay here for a bit longer. If that's okay."

"Certainly." He said, and she realised they were talking more quietly than necessary on an otherwise empty ship. "Although the television is unavailable due to the current lack of electricity on this vessel."

"I don't need to watch a film, Jones." she murmured. She knew he was looking at her, could  _feel_ it, but Emma couldn't look back at him. "I think… maybe I need to talk."

Not that she was sure  _how_ to talk, because she'd never had someone that she could talk to before. But Jones had spent the day with her, and she'd been grumpy and bitter and uncooperative and he hadn't ever walked away.

And worst of all was that, with him, she was starting to get used to that.

"Swan?" he asked and although she still wasn't looking at him, she knew he had leant closer when she felt the word against her skin. "Why don't you want to go back to Mary-Margaret's?"

"That's why." she admitted hesitantly. "Because it's Mary-Margaret's. It's not my home and I can't let it be because there's no way I'll be living there for long. Mary-Margaret wants David to move in and that means, at some point, I'm going to have to leave. I mean, they're a couple and it'll be weird if I'm just…  _there_. Besides, it's not like I'm even paying rent so I can't exactly say no when they ask me to leave."

"Oh, Emma." he sighed, his thumb stroking the curve of her shoulder and feeling like it was burning her through the cotton shirt. "Mary-Margaret wouldn't do that to you. You do know that, don't you?"

Emma shook her head. How  _could_ she know that? Everything she knew told her otherwise, told her that Jones' words were wrong.

"Why do you doubt her?" Jones said, almost inaudibly.

Emma swallowed and leant forward to rest her elbows on her knees, Jones' arm dropping away from her. "Because I'm replaceable, Jones. I always have been. I'm not the sort of person that people keep around once they've found something better."

"Where did you get that idea, love?"

She took in another deep breath before finally twisting to look at him. She was certain she looked broken - the conversation made her  _feel_ broken - but even after he searched her expression, nothing seemed to change. He didn't look pitying, which she expected. He just looked as though he  _cared_ , and when he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face, his hand lingering in her hair, she turned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. "I got that idea because that what's always happened. Because that's what happened when I was three and my foster family had their own child and sent me back. Because I'm never enough for anyone. Because the first man I loved left me and the men I've tried to love since have never thought I was enough for them."

"The married man?" Jones asked, and although she vaguely remembered telling him about that guy on Christmas Day, she surprised he recalled what she'd said. "The one who gave you his wife's earrings?"

"Yeah. Him." she confirmed, and he still hadn't moved his hand away. "Like I said, just me is never enough. I shouldn't have gotten comfortable here because Mary-Margaret was bound to realise that eventually."

"Emma, what happened with your foster family was dreadful." he stated, and she was grateful that he wasn't apologising or rationalising anything. "And the married man was foolish if he didn't think you were enough. You would be more than enough for me. You would be  _everything_ for me."

Emma's heart felt as if it was pounding in her chest, and she scrambled away from Jones, because  _what was he saying,_  and took a seat in one of the chairs at the nearby table. His hand was still hovering in mid-air, where she had been only seconds before, and Jones looked entirely unsure about how to react. "Uh, well, you know the earrings? How he wanted me to give them back?" she stammered, her gaze locked on her own hands. "I pretended I'd lost them. I actually sold them. It felt petty, but… well, it didn't really help anything."

"I understand." Jones said, and when she searched him for any sign of a lie, she didn't find one. He gulped and then shifted on the bed so he was closer, but Emma couldn't allow him to be nearer to her, not when she was still feeling too much. But she  _could_ allow herself to meet his stare, to watch as he raised his right arm and used the end of his other arm to nudge his sleeve up until she could see a large tattoo printed on his arm. "I understand wanting to make someone pay for what they did to you. For hurting you."

She reached out to take hold of his arm, tracing her finger along the tattoo outline, along the name centered in the middle of red heart. "Milah." she read, and his swallow was loud enough for her to hear. "Who's Milah?"

"Someone from long ago." He answered, and she felt his forearm tense when he clenched his fist. "But she was killed. I spent more time than I can even remember wanting revenge. Her husband took her and he took my happiness and he took my hand. But my revenge, well, it didn't feel the way I thought it would."

"You got it?" Emma whispered, unaware that she was still running her fingers along the lines of the tattoo, once again unable to look away from him. "Your revenge?"

"In a way." He responded, his voice equally as low as hers had been. "Not the way I wanted. And I didn't feel any better afterwards."

She wanted to ask some more questions - she had  _so many_ questions - but he had never asked her anything, so she didn't delve into his past either. If he wanted to tell her, he would.

Instead, she just sat with him until the storm ended. After a while, she moved back to the bed, although she was far more aware of her proximity to him, and when she shivered again, he wrapped her in his blanket.

It was comfortable sitting in the quiet with him, and although he busied himself by reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Emma was satisfied with simply watching him.

"You've read this book, Swan?" he asked suddenly, glancing down at the book in his hands. Emma nodded in response. "Can you explain to me why Gryffindor and Slytherin seem so vehemently against one another?"

And then he asked her so many questions that Emma didn't know how he'd managed to get so far through the book.

"You realise that there are two books that you're meant to read before that one?" she pointed out.

"That would make sense." Jones said, looking at the book as if it had betrayed him somehow. "I felt there were a lot of things that appeared to be unexplained."

"What made you decide to read that book anyway?" she asked. "It seems a bit different to the other one's you'd picked up from the library."

Jones glanced over at the other two books piled on his desk, and then shrugged. "I chose to read this one first because you knew of it, Swan. I borrowed it from the library because it, like the others there, apparently involve a concept that I recently found myself interested in."

"And what's that?"

His smile was elusive, her question remaining unanswered. And then he started reading out loud, and the words were familiar and soothing, and she burrowed closer into his blanket as he read. "There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice…"

And when she was thoroughly surrounded by the smell of him and the warmth of his blanket and the timbre of his voice, she slept.

~~~*~~~

Jones had insisted on walking Emma back to the loft after the storm broke and he woke her up. She'd let him accompany her all the way back to Granny's, but she stopped outside the diner before they could keep walking towards the loft.

"I know you're right." she said suddenly, because they'd been quiet for the entire walk. "About Mary-Margaret. I just need some more time to sort my head out before I go back. I should probably make sure I'm able to explain things to her too."

She hadn't even started to move towards the diner when she noticed Jones looking over her shoulder, and she twisted to see David Nolan walking towards her. He smiled at them in greeting, Emma returning the smile hesitantly and then he stopped directly in front of them.

"Emma." he said cheerily. "Killian. How are the two of you?"

"I'm splendid, Dave." Jones answered first, and his arm was across Emma's shoulders again, his hand giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze, and she wondered if Jones somehow understood the cause of her sudden anxiety, that David knew of her angry response to Mary-Margaret's question that morning. "You seem rather lively, mate. Did you ride out the storm with your beloved?"

David seemed rather uncertain about how innocent Jones' question was, and the boyish grin on the pawnbroker's face didn't seem to help. "I was with Mary-Margaret, yes." He said carefully, and then nodded his head towards the diner. "But right now I'm here to meet Kathryn. Although, Emma, do you mind if we have a word?"

"That's fine." Emma replied hesitantly, prompted by the curious expression that Jones sent her way. "Now?"

"Yeah. It shouldn't take long."

"I'll leave the two of you to it, then." Jones stated, patting David on the shoulder in farewell and then turning to Emma. "Goodbye, Dave. Emma."

And then he took a step towards her and brushed a kiss across her cheek before striding off as if he hadn't just done anything unusual. She gaped after him, her hand pressed against her cheek, feeling more flustered than she should.

"Sorry about that." David said, taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables. "Killian keeps insisting that he's the better looking of the two of us. Or, in his words, far more likely to fluster a lass. I think he decided to use surprise in an attempt to prove it. Although, I'll make sure he knows that it doesn't count when he uses that tactic."

Emma refused to admit that, as shocked as she was, it wasn't just surprise that had left her speechless.

"I have to say I'm glad he's still alive." David continued, his smile widening when she sat opposite him. "I was slightly worried he and his ship would have sunk in the storm."

"You know Jones well?" she asked, finally managing to sort her thoughts out and actually pay attention to him.

"As well as I know anyone these days." David joked, pointing to his head and then sighing. "But we've had a couple of drinks together. Some days, when I'm reminded just how much I've forgotten, I just need a drink. He's normally around when I go off to find one."

"You wanted to talk?" Emma prompted, because David seemed the sort of person who could talk for a while if he wasn't brought back on track.

"I did." He agreed, and then he continued as though he hadn't even begun to discuss Killian Jones. "I just wanted to say that I love Mary-Margaret, but we've agreed that I won't be moving in unless it's alright with you too. It's your home as well and I don't want my presence to ruin that. Mary-Margaret would hate to see you go."

She didn't believe him until he dug a newspaper page out of his pocket and showed her the many red circles around the different available real estate options. "What's this?"

"It's proof that I'm looking elsewhere." David told her. "I need to move out of Granny's. But I don't need to live with Mary-Margaret, not if there's no space for me."

It was only those words, those completely  _honest_ words, that fully convinced her that Mary-Margaret wouldn't be forcing her out of the loft, even with David there. "It's alright. I think I could cope with you around."

He laughed happily, and there was something about David that she really did like, something friendly and warm. "Thank you."

"You make Mary-Margaret very happy, you know."

"I intend to do that for as long as she'll let me." He promised sincerely. "And for as long as I'm with her, I'll know that I'm the luckiest man alive."

"You're a good guy, David." Emma smiled at her friend's boyfriend. "I'll go talk to Mary-Margaret and then, well, I guess I'll see you at home."

"I'll see you there, Emma." he said, standing from the table and making his way towards the front door of Granny's. "And I'll bring donuts."

"Make sure to bring a bear claw?"

"If I remember." David called back to her, still standing in the doorway. "If I forget, well, you can't blame me. Memory problems, remember?"

"Sure, David." She replied, rolling her eyes as he finally stepped into the diner.

It was time for her to go home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and the comments! And thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 12**

Emma was far too irritated to care about David's story about some customer at the animal shelter. She was trying to listen, laughing along with Mary-Margaret whenever he apparently said something funny, but she was too preoccupied by how Regina had showed up at Henry's castle and sent Henry away. And then she'd berated Emma for letting Henry play there, as if Emma didn't think about Henry's safety at all.

Emma wouldn't let Henry do anything dangerous, and she hated that Regina had forced Henry away from his favourite place in an attempt to keep them apart.

She knew she should have been trying to stay involved in the conversation, because the three of them were having one last meal at Granny's before it was no longer David's home and the entire point of the three of them eating together was for Emma to get to know David a bit more.

And she wasn't really succeeding at that.

The couple picked up on that when they apparently asked her a question and Emma failed to respond.

"Emma?" Mary-Margaret asked, reaching out to pat Emma's arm. "Is everything alright? You've been quiet all evening."

Emma looked up at the couple, both them displaying a surprising amount of concern. "I haven't seen Henry for any significant amount of time since Graham." she admitted with a sigh, and Mary-Margaret's countenance softened sympathetically. "And today, I thought I'd get to talk with him at our place, but Regina showed up and sent him home. She was just waiting to take that place away from us. Waiting for the opportunity to take it from Henry and then manage to make it  _my_ fault."

"How did she do that?" David asked through a mouthful of meat loaf, something Mary-Margaret seemed to only find endearing.

Emma shrugged, anger rising to the surface now that there were people willing to listen. "She basically implied that if I was a good mother I wouldn't have let Henry near his castle at all." She huffed and then shovelled some food into her mouth. "As if I'd have let Henry on the playground when it was damaged like that. It's just… that's where we talk."

"I don't know, Emma." Mary-Margaret said hesitantly, after briefly explaining what Henry's castle was to the confused looking David. "If the storm damage was really that bad, maybe this time it was just concern for her son. Don't let your feelings cloud your judgement."

"Don't let my feelings  _cloud my judgement_?" Emma repeated disbelievingly, and Mary-Margaret looked away from her to glance at David, who was clearly trying to look impartial. "That's all Regina ever does."

"Well, maybe she's just upset because you and Henry have a special place…" Mary-Margaret suggested. "And she doesn't."

Emma grimaced, not saying that having a special place meant nothing when it was almost impossible to find time to spend together. Instead, she just took in a deep breath, drank a few sips of wine, and decided not to fight Mary-Margaret on it.

She'd already made the evening far less pleasant than had been intended.

"Okay. Maybe." Emma said reluctantly. "Still, whatever her reasoning, you can't deny that she doesn't make Henry happy. That the things she's done lately, to hurt me, have had the potential to hurt him just as much."

"I'm not denying her effect on Henry." Mary-Margaret said quietly. "I see it too. But, today, Emma, what can you do to change things?"

The pleading was clear in Mary-Margaret's words, and Emma  _knew_ the teacher didn't want this to be the topic of conversation during what was meant to be a pleasant evening out. Emma inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, inhaled again and then smiled at David. "Today, nothing." she said finally. "Now, David, you were talking about that dog that you're growing attached to?"

David grinned at her and then nodded, showing Emma a very poor quality picture of a small terrier on his flip-phone. "He's called Dodger." David said, and then started to talk, nonstop, about the Jack Russell that appeared to have stolen his heart.

Mary-Margaret had to remind him that there wasn't really that much space in the apartment, and he couldn't show up one day with a dog under his arm.

And after a while, Emma managed to stow her anger away for later and have a decent time with the two people she was going to be living with. Of course, she was close to Mary-Margaret and already knew she was wonderful, but there was something about David that calmed her the same way that Mary-Margaret did.

When it was dark outside and Emma ordered a glass of whiskey as a sedative - she'd been sleeping poorly for a few days now, since what Henry had dubbed the Hansel and Gretel case - she told Mary-Margaret and David that they were free to leave her.

"Besides" she said with a small laugh. "You guys should take advantage of the fact that David here has one night left at Granny's before you two have to start worrying about where I am."

Mary-Margaret looked rather shocked, but David chuckled along with Emma. "You're spending too much time with Killian, Emma." he pointed out, hooking his arm around Mary-Margaret's waist and then leading her away with a nod in farewell.

Emma relaxed back in her chair, but was only alone for a few moments because Sidney Glass slid into the seat David had just vacated.

"Sidney, I am not having a drink with you." she stated pre-emptively, and the journalist just rolled his eyes. "Not even if you sit with me."

"I'm not here to drink with you." Sidney slurred, his elbows on the table as he leant closer to Emma, his alcohol-soaked breath overpowering.

"Clearly you've already drunk everything in Granny's." Emma muttered, her chair squeaking on the floor as she pushed away from him. "What do you want?"

"I want your help." Sidney said, stumbling over his words. "I heard your talk with Mary-Margaret and David. You want to show this town who the Mayor really is. So do I. And I want your help to do it."

"It's going to be hard to help you when you're in Regina's pocket." Emma pointed out harshly, irritated by the man's implication that he'd been eavesdropping on her discussion with her friends.

"And to be honest, after all the stuff you've published about me, why would I want to do  _anything_ with you?"

"The Mayor and I are done." Sidney insisted, and although Emma spent a few seconds searching him for any hint of a lie, it was impossible to determine anything when the man was so drunk. "She got me fired from the paper. She made a fool of me in the election. So I started to work on an exposé of the Mayor's office and I found something she didn't want to be found."

"Sure you did." Emma said, draining her glass of whiskey and then standing from the table. "Now, go home. You're drunk. Just be grateful that you don't have to answer to her anymore."

Sidney shook his head, frustrated, and when Emma turned to leave, she felt his hand grasp her wrist. She pulled her hand away forcefully, glaring at him, and Sidney did nothing but press a business card into her hand. "Call me. Storybrooke deserves the truth."

Emma rolled her eyes and walked away.

~~~*~~~

The destruction of Henry's castle and the loss of his book had been the last straw for Emma. She'd stood by and watched as Regina ordered the playground to be knocked down, had received her first call from Henry in weeks only to hear him upset over the loss of the place he loved,

And then suddenly Sidney's offer had seemed like a good idea.

She'd called the journalist to the Sheriff's station and he had shown up with a dozen files tucked under his arm and a surprisingly sober state of mind.

"What are these?" Emma asked as the files were spread in front of her. "I said I'd hear your offer, not that I'd help you."

"I thought your call  _was_ you accepting my offer." Sidney said, slamming his hand down on a file as she went to open it. "I'm not sharing anything with you until I know you're on my side."

"And I'm not doing anything with you until I'm slightly less suspicious that you're still working with Regina." Emma stated, folding her arms and glaring at him. "I don't buy that you're not on her side anymore."

"I understand." Sidney said slowly, each word sounding weighed and carefully selected. "I did a lot for Regina before she discredited me. Lately, I've seen a different side to her."

"That seems to be happening a lot lately." She pointed out, finding something off in his words but unable to figure out if it was a lie or if she just didn't trust him. She  _knew_ she didn't trust him. "Doesn't mean I'm going to work with everyone who says that."

Sidney raised an eyebrow, apparently confused by her words but then she saw understanding in his eyes and he chuckled bitterly. "Of course. Killian's had a similar change of heart lately." Sidney muttered, quiet enough that Emma wasn't sure if he was even talking to her. "I forgot that you and Killian were like that."

"Like what?" Emma asked in surprise.

Sidney chuckled, clearly deciding she didn't need an answer. "How about I let you know what I've found and then you decide?" he suggested instead. "Seeing as you're so reluctant to trust me."

"Can you blame me?" Emma gently tugged the file out from under his hand and opened it up, staring up at Sidney furiously when she saw that the file was full of pictures of her and her son, of her and Jones, of her and  _everyone_. "What the  _hell_ is this?"

"This is what Regina made me do." Sidney said, and Emma examined a couple of the pictures more closely. There was one picture from months before, of her walking Henry to school, with Henry looking up at her with wide eyes, clearly mid-conversation. In the picture, she looked so distant and stiff, and Emma decided she'd rather not look at it any closer.

She shuffled the picture to the back, faltering again when she reached the last picture. It was far more recent, from only days before. It was herself, David and Jones outside Granny's, just after the storm. She blinked at it a few times, because she looked so much more at ease than she had in the previous photo, her body angled towards Jones even as she spoke to David, the pawnbroker's arm around her shoulders.

And the photo had immortalised the soft look that Jones  _always_ gave her.

She didn't like the picture but at the same time she didn't want to put it down.

Emma forced herself to look back up at Sidney. "So what did you find out?"

Sidney glanced between Emma and the picture she still had in her hand, an amused smirk appearing briefly on his lips. "Fifty thousand dollars."

"What?"

"Well, I was going through the public records and it appears fifty grand out of the budget is missing." Sidney clarified, and Emma finally managed to loosen her grip on the picture, the photo dropping down to rest on top of the others. "Regina is responsible."

Emma stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to deliver something more incriminating, but nothing came. "That's it?" she said with a sigh. "That's what you have on her?"

"The money is just the tip of the iceberg." Sidney insisted, angrily collecting his files, including the photographs, "We figure out what she's doing and it all falls apart. It all crumbles. And we'll finally learn her secrets. You see what she is. I see it. All we need is a crack in the mirror to show everyone. I'm telling you. This is it."

"Well, what's your plan?"

"Tap her phone. GPS her car. Hack into her email." Sidney suggested, and Emma shook her head. She'd promised Henry to do things the right way, and just because Henry wasn't involved in her plan, didn't mean she was going to stop. "Dip into your bail bondsperson bag of tricks."

"No." Emma said plainly. "I'm Sheriff now. I have to be responsible. I want to do this by the book."

Sidney raised an eyebrow, but then he shrugged. "Fine. What does that involve?"

"What it involves is me talking to Regina." Emma instructed. "And then, maybe, we do something."

Sidney nodded, and then, with a slight smirk, he slid the photo of her, Jones and David across the desk and walked off.

~~~*~~~

Emma had told Regina that she wanted to talk about Henry, despite the fact that even using him as an excuse made her feel terribly guilty. At the same time, she had honestly wanted to discuss certain things, had wanted to try and figure out a schedule of times she could spend with her son without worrying Regina would force him away.

Regina had turned down every single suggestion with a gleeful smile and eventually, when Emma was sick of the happiness that the mayor seemed to find in keeping her and Henry apart, she decided to put a bit more stock in Sidney's plan.

Because denying Emma half an hour to spend with Henry every few days was going to hurt Henry just as much as Emma, and at least if their time together was sanctioned, then Henry wouldn't be sneaking out all the time.

Emma had brought up the missing fifty thousand, which Regina had hand-waved with a vague excuse about being the Mayor and doing things for the good of the town.

She had decided that she could do far worse to someone than eavesdrop on a few conversations, and by the end of their discussion, Emma barely felt guilty when she pressed the small bug beneath the desk.

After a day spent at the Sheriff's station, she was ready to listen to every single thing Regina had talked about, no matter how dull.

"Why did you call me here?" Sidney asked, and Emma turned to face him. "Have you spoken to Regina?"

"I did more than speak to her." Emma said, feeling slightly more ashamed now that she wasn't overly irritated with Regina. "I may have bugged her office."

"I thought you only planned to talk." Sidney said, an excited bounce in his step as he crossed the station to Emma's desk. Emma shrugged in response. She hadn't been willing to tell Sidney until a decent amount of time had passed, because she didn't trust him. And if he didn't know, then there was no chance of him betraying her to Regina.

"I changed my mind." Emma explained shortly, gesturing to the tape recorder on the desk and then pointing to the two headphones. "I figured that, with the two of us, we'd be more certain to catch anything important. Besides, it means we can take turns fetching coffee."

Sidney hesitated and then took the empty seat next to her, putting on the headphones and watching expectantly as Emma did the same.

And for what felt like hours, they listened to one-sided conversations addressing complaints and city ordinances. Then there was the sound of a door slamming echoing from the recording and Emma's heart pounded when she heard Jones' voice, his tone darker than she'd ever heard it.

"Madame Mayor." He spat, and Emma held the headphones to her ear, not wanting to miss a word. "You wanted to see me?"

"I did." Regina replied. "I wanted an explanation on why the hospital hasn't seen you in a few days. You do realise what will happen if you continue to refuse to do what I say? What will happen if  _I_ have to visit? And if that happens, what do you expect will happen to Emma? Can you even imagine what he might do to her when he realises how  _fond_ you are of her?"

Emma spared a quick, slightly embarrassed glance towards Sidney, but he seemed engrossed by what they were listening to. Emma was similarly intrigued, remembering all of the strange conversations she'd heard the two of them share all those weeks before. "You do realise, my dear, that these threats of yours are pointless?" Jones said with a smooth, dangerous voice that sent a shiver through Emma. "I know as well as you do what will happen when he gets out and sees Lacey. I may be in trouble, but you are in no less. You  _can't_ control me, Regina. Your only leverage works against you too. So I'm going to keep visiting the hospital, on my time, the same way I always have since I put him in there, and you're going to stay away from him. And from me. And from Emma."

"I brought you here." Regina hissed in response. "You work for  _me_."

"Not anymore." They heard the door slam again, and then Regina huffed angrily and the recording fell quiet.

Emma's mind was racing, leaving her far too preoccupied to pay attention to the new conversation that Regina had started, another mundane one that seemed to be about working conditions. She was trying to understand the conversation, trying to work past Regina's undenied implications of their relationship and Jones' insistence that Regina stay away from Emma in order to make sense of everything else that she'd heard.

All she could figure out was that Regina and Jones had been working together, and Regina was attempting to threaten him in order to keep that alliance. And that the person Jones kept visiting in the hospital was in there  _because_  of him.

Maybe Emma hadn't trusted him - she  _hadn't_  - but hearing his conversation with Regina still stung like a betrayal and Emma didn't know why.

She jolted back to attention when she felt Sidney nudging her arm. "What?" Emma snapped, pushing the headphones off so that she could hear him. "What is it?"

"Did you hear that?" Sidney asked, and Emma looked away when she admitted she hadn't heard it. She hadn't heard anything since Jones had left. "Well, what you missed was good. Better than good."

Emma shook herself back to full attention and rewound the recording for a few minutes.

"I'll meet you at Access Road Twenty-Three tonight with the rest of your payment." Regina said, her voice slightly distorted by the recording. "Yes, it will all be in cash. And I don't need to remind you that no one can know about this."Another pause. "Yes, I know it has to be tonight."

"Well, who's on the other end?" Emma asked Sidney, who peered at her dubiously. "Do you know?"

"You bugged the office." Sidney told her with a shrug. "Not the phone."

"Right." Emma sighed, dropping the headphones onto the desk and standing up. "Well, we're just going to have to find out then."

"Yeah."

"A pay-off in the woods is promising though." Emma admitted, although her mind was still barely focussed on what they'd heard. "We meet tonight and we go and find out who she's meeting."

"Where are you going?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she picked up the tape machine and the two headsets and strode away from the desk and out of the station before Sidney could ask anything else. She didn't need to listen to Sidney, not when she had Jones to talk to.

~~~*~~~

Emma didn't have time for Jones' bright grin and smile-creased eyes when she stormed into the shop, barely half an hour after she'd listen to the recording, and she definitely didn't have time for his questions as she slammed the tape player down on the counter in front of him.

"Can you explain this?" she hissed, her anger fading inexplicably as he looked from her to the tape machine and then back up to her with his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "Well?"

"I'm rather certain it plays music, Swan." he answered, his head canted to the side as he gazed at her. "Is everything alright?"

"No." She said, folding her arms across her chest and fixing him with a stern gaze. Jones' eyes narrowed and then stepped around the counter to stand before her, his hand on her arm and concern clear in his eyes.

"What's wrong then, love?" He questioned quietly, his thumb stroking her arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

Emma didn't say anything. Instead, she shrugged her arm away from his grip and turned on the tape player, rewinding back to the conversation she'd overheard and then playing it loudly, not saying a word until the recording was over.

"Eavesdropping on Regina, are we?"

"Jones." She said, and to her horror, her voice wavered. "What is on this tape should be enough to send me running. I'm only asking for an explanation because… well, I just am."

Jones took in a deep breath and then crossed the small amount of distance Emma had just put between them. "I'm grateful for the opportunity, Swan, but I  _can't_ explain." he murmured apologetically, his hand soft on her cheek and keeping her gaze locked on him. "You won't believe me."

"Can you at least explain what you meant when you said that  _you_ put him in the hospital?" She breathed, turning her head slightly into his touch. "And why Regina's threatening any of us?"

His jaw clenched, and he tilted his head closer to her,  _too_ close, and she felt as though he was searching for something, but she didn't know what it was he was looking for.

Whatever it was, he didn't seem to find it. He shook his head slightly, his hand dropping from her face, and then his gaze hardened. "I shouldn't have to explain anything." he said harshly, his fist clenched at his side. "That was a conversation between myself and Regina and you're the one who should be explaining themselves."

Emma gaped at him. It hadn't even crossed her mind that he would be  _angry_ with her. "I wouldn't be asking you to explain if I didn't want to  _trust_ you." she stammered, not even thinking through what she was saying, and she was certain she looked as shocked as Jones did when she realised what she had said.

Confronting him about what she'd heard had been  _such_ a stupid idea. However, her impulsive response to his anger seemed to have calmed him and it was mixture of curiosity and worry that made her reach out to him, taking hold of his hand. "What are you  _involved_ in, Killian?"

Jones stared at her hand on his, and then he raised his wide-eyed gaze to her, lacing their fingers together, which made Emma swallow and look away from him. "If I could tell you the truth, Emma, I would." he promised, raising their joined hands to his lips and brushing a light, fleeting kiss across her knuckles. "But I'd rather say nothing than lie to you. I will  _never_ lie to you, but there are some things that I just can't tell you. Not yet."

"I have to go." Emma breathed, because she hadn't been prepared for  _this_ , had only wanted an explanation, but now her heart was beating too quickly, her breath coming too fast. "I have to meet Sidney."

"Sidney?" Jones repeated, and she could still feel every exhale of breath warm against her hand. "Swan, I don't expect you to trust me. I understand why you don't. But  _please_  believe me when I say that, whatever it is you are doing with Sidney, he is not on your side. If you work with him, you will only get hurt."

"But he said-" Emma protested weakly. "He said he was on my side."

"His feelings for Regina are too potent for him to turn away from her."

"But he was telling the truth. He found some files, something about a missing fifty grand from a few weeks ago"

"Maybe you just wanted him to be telling the truth?" Jones suggested.

"No. I  _know_ when people are lying." Emma insisted. She always hated it when people doubted her, even though she knew that sometimes her intuition was faulty. "It's not that I'm just looking for lies or hoping for the truth."

"I know. Don't ever think I don't believe in you, Swan. I can't believe this of Sidney. If he's doing something with you, it will only be for Regina's benefit."

"Well, I'll check." Emma mumbled, gently tugging her hand away from his. "I'll find the file and I'll find the truth."

"You don't need the file." Jones stated, and Emma frowned at him. "Please, let me help you. Let me show you that even if you can't trust me, you can trust that I'll help you with this. Surely, you at least can find it in yourself to trust me more than you do Sidney."

Emma let out a shaky breath, and then she nodded. "I think I can try."

"Good." He stated. "Because if it's fifty thousand dollars that she's spent, I know exactly what it's about. She bought land from me."

~~~*~~~

Even though Jones had shown her records detailing exactly what the fifty thousand dollars were to be used for - a new playground for the town's children - Emma had decided to play along with whatever Sidney was doing.

And so, once she'd left Jones with the file, she met with Sidney like she'd planned.

She was going to play along until it all came to a head, presumably when Regina expected her to confront her about the missing money, and she wasn't going to do a thing except watch Regina's expression as nothing went according to plan.

Sidney had looked rather shocked, only for a second, when she told him that she had already figured out the fifty thousand dollars were being used to buy land. Except Emma had pretended to be completely unaware of the purpose of the land.

They'd taken the squad car from their meeting place outside of town, but parking outside of the town hall had ended in disaster when her car brakes didn't work and the squad car had smashed into one of the benches outside the hall.

Jones had told her that the phone call about the money was fake, but if that wasn't confirmation enough that Regina had found the bug, the tampered breaks of the squad car had been proof.

Emma gritted her teeth and climbed out of the car, staggering slightly and reaching up to press her hand to her head, wincing when she felt blood.

She wished she could really take Regina down, because the bitch had tried to  _kill_  her, but she knew she was going to have to be satisfied by simply refusing to fall into Regina's trap.

"What are we doing here?" Sidney asked, following Emma as she wandered towards the front door.

"Well, we know she used the money to buy land but we don't know why." Emma lied, searching through the flowerbeds to try and find something she could use to break the window. "I'm willing to bet it's for personal reasons, but we need to know for sure."

"So you want to break into her office?" Sidney said dubiously, and Emma looked up from her search to see the journalist staring at the digital door lock. "It's locked. And she's got a state of the art security system and alarm."

Emma doubted that Regina's security system was really state of the art, given that Storybrooke seemed stuck in the past when it came to technology, but either way, she couldn't pick the lock. "If we don't show this town who Regina really is, who will?"

"Do you think you can crack her code?"

Emma chuckled, weighing a rather large rock in her hand and then straightening up. "Yep." Emma stated, using the rock to shatter the window and then reaching through to unlock the door from the inside. She ignored Sidney's shocked words and stepped into the hall. "Who does the alarm system alert? The police. I'm the police. We have two minutes for her to get a call from the alarm system, one minute to get her coat and keys, three minutes to drive here. We have maybe six minutes."

She hurried up to the office and over to the desk, slotting her USB into the computer and watching as it automatically hacked into the system. A few clicks later and she had already retrieved every file referencing the land Regina had bought from Jones, and she just hoped they'd be printed off before Regina arrived.

As she waited, she searched through the various drawers. If she was breaking into Regina's office purely for a ruse, she wasn't going to reject the chance to search for Henry's book. She uncovered a huge key ring with several identical keys attached, the bow of each key decorated with a silver skull. "What the hell do these open?" she asked Sidney, dangling the keyring in front of him.

"I don't know." Sidney replied, and Emma looked at him carefully before determining that, at least this time, he was telling the truth. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for Henry's book." She explained. "The only reason I'm doing  _any_ of this is for him."

~~~*~~~

She had spent hours with Sidney going through the various blueprints and bank statements she'd printed from Regina's computer, many of which she'd already been shown by Jones. It had been hard, pretending not to see through every single thing he said to her, especially once he made it clear that he wanted Emma to confront Regina at the Council meeting.

Regina wanted her to make a scene, and Emma was glad she'd been made aware of just how far Sidney would go in order to help the Mayor.

"This session of the Storybrooke city council will come to order." Regina said, banging her gavel against the table to start the meeting. Emma grimaced, already preparing herself for a boring meeting, sinking lower into her seat. "We will begin by reading the minutes from our last meeting."

Emma swallowed when she spotted Sidney standing up a few rows in front of her. She couldn't even feel guilty about letting Sidney embarrass himself, not when that had been his plan for her all along.

"Uh, excuse me, um, Madam Mayor?" Sidney stammered, glancing back towards Emma for only a second before turning back to face the council. "I have something I'd like to bring to the council's attention."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "This is not an open forum, Sidney." she stated with a roll of her eyes. "And no one on this council's interested in hearing the boozy complaints of a disgraced reporter. Now sit down."

Sidney turned around again, gazing at Emma expectantly, but Emma just met his gaze unflinchingly and shook her head. The journalist swallowed, looked from her to Regina, and then slowly sat down.

Regina looked utterly furious, but when Emma met her glare, all she did was smirk back.

~~~*~~~

The new playground was the weirdest looking playground that Emma had ever seen. It looked like a weird metal egg, just with slides and swings, but Emma would admit it looked far safer than the wooden castle had been.

Then again, she was sure it would have been cheaper to simply maintain the old playground instead of build a new one, and it definitely wouldn't have upset Henry as much.

She left her Bug and wandered over to the bench nearest the playground, exchanging a few awkward smiles with the other parents that were sitting nearby. She waved at Henry when he spotted her, and he immediately ran over and sat beside her.

"This playground's alright." He began, a wide smile across his face. "I mean, it's not quiet. Not like my castle was. So we can't have secret meetings here."

"It is a bit noisy." Emma agreed, grinning when he leaned against her and she slung her arm around him. "But sometimes, things are even more covert when they're out in the open. I mean, no one's going to expect us to be discussing Operation Cobra when we're somewhere everyone can hear us."

Henry laughed and nodded, his eyes bright. "I guess." he stated. "I still miss my castle."

"I know." Emma said, ruffling his hair. "And I wish I could have stopped your mom from tearing it down, kid, but this place is going to have to do."

"I know." Henry nodded, watching the other children as they played together, and Emma pulled him closer when she remembered Regina's words from months before. That Henry didn't have many friends. "I liked having my own place though. I don't have anywhere now."

Emma didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

"Soon, though, we won't need a place." Henry said eventually. "Because when the curse breaks, everyone will be saved and I'll get to be with you. And it's going to be soon. Because you've already reunited Snow White and Prince Charming and you're close with your Prince Charles."

"Right." Emma agreed, because she couldn't tell him that it wasn't going to happen. She didn't even think she could look after him. She could do this, she could be a mom for a few hours at a time, but she couldn't do it forever. She couldn't do it everyday. "You know, Henry, I'll find your book. I will."

"It's probably gone." Henry mumbled into her side. "It's probably never coming back. But I won't need it when the curse is broken."

She sighed heavily. "I'm going to find it."

"I'm just happy you're here." Henry admitted quietly, and Emma smiled down at him tremulously. "And I've decided we have to keep Operation Cobra going. I know we stopped, because of Graham, but we're getting so close to fixing it now."

"Does this mean we'll have to start up the secret meetings again?" Emma asked. "Because I've really missed them."

"Me too." Henry mumbled.

Emma beamed down at him, her smile faltering when she realised how close she had come to losing him. She couldn't even imagine what Regina would have done if her manipulations had worked, if Emma had stood up and confronted her publicly about the missing money only for Regina to reveal all of her plans.

Emma doubted that she'd be having this conversation with Henry if things had played out like that.

As reluctant as she was to admit it, she'd have fallen for everything if not for Killian Jones.

~~~*~~~

After she'd told Mary-Margaret and David everything that had happened that day, Mary-Margaret had insisted on inviting Jones to join them for what she had named the 'David is finally unpacked' celebratory dinner.

And Emma had resisted at first, but when Mary-Margaret started to cook a feast, she'd given in and sent him a message.

David and Emma were playing cards when she heard the knock on the door. David seemed to decide that Jones' arrival was enough to signify the end of the game, although with how dire he was at poker, she wasn't surprised at his eagerness to stop playing.

She let him forfeit and then she opened the door to Jones, who immediately spotted the thin cut on her forehead and asked her where it was from. He wasn't really placated by her brief, awkward explanation of the car crash, but the weirdly heavy atmosphere surrounding them dispersed rather quickly once David decided that he had to talk to Jones.

The two men talked for a very long time, and Emma ended up assisting with cooking, despite Mary-Margaret's rather desperate insistence that Emma stay away from the food. It was surprisingly comfortable though, to be chatting in the kitchen with Mary-Margaret while David and Jones' discussed whatever it was that seemed to be keeping them so amused.

Knowing David, it was probably about a dog.

And over their meal of macaroni cheese, there was so much warmth and laughter and wine. Emma had never felt so comfortable.

It could only have been better if Henry had been with them.

It was very late when Mary-Margaret finally stopped being giggly, and was curled up on the sofa with a blanket and a mug of cocoa. David had started on the washing up, but even then, with no one really talking, Jones seemed reluctant to leave.

But when one of the clocks showed that it was well past midnight, Jones decided he had to go.

Emma walked him out of the apartment, because as fun as the evening had been, she hadn't had the chance to thank him for his advice or to apologise for eavesdropping, and she wanted to make sure he understood how she felt after their short, unusually tense interactions earlier in the day.

"Thanks." she said, just as he started to walk away, her voice causing him to halt only a step away from her. "I don't really want to think about what would have happened if I'd let myself fall for Sidney's lies."

He smiled softly and returned to stand in front her, and she returned the warm expression when she felt his hand brush against the tender cut on her forehead. "I had hoped Regina wouldn't hurt you."

"Did you think your threats would stop her?" Emma asked, restraining herself from asking the same questions as before, from ruining whatever they shared further than she already had. "They've just made her more underhanded."

"I only wanted to prevent something like this." He whispered, his thumb caressing her forehead gently, a twinge of pain spreading through her every time his touch came close to the wound. "I'm sorry it didn't work."

"You don't need to protect me." Emma told him, and he nodded.

"I know." He muttered, his hand dropping away from her face even as he inched closer to her.

She couldn't look away from him, and he seemed equally as entranced by her, lingering in front of her instead of walking away.

It was Emma who pulled him closer, who slipped her arms around him and just held him, her breath stuttering when he returned the embrace. His arms were firm around her, his nose pressed against her hair, his warmth completely surrounding her.

"Thank you." She repeated breathlessly, burying her head against his neck where it met his shoulder, his skin hot under hers. His grip tightened around her, and she relaxed into him when she felt the gentle press of his lips against her forehead. "I think, if you hadn't said anything, I could have lost Henry."

She clutched at him, the two of them entwined so closely together for only a brief moment before she felt overwhelmed by him and staggered away.

He followed her, swaying forwards when she moved away, and the way he was looking at her was breathtaking, his eyes molten and staring into her own with an earnestness that should have frightened her.

Emma couldn't move when his hand rose back to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lips for only a moment.

It felt as though time had slowed as his head lowered to hers, her mind totally blank, and then she felt his lips burning against her cheek, only millimetres from her mouth.

He lingered there, and it was far,  _far_  too much. And then, as slowly as he had approached her, he pulled away, his hand caressing her cheek before it dropped back to his side. "One day, Emma," he murmured, still too close. Too far. "I will tell you everything."

He walked away before she could even process his words, leaving her standing in the corridor by herself and trying desperately to regain all the thoughts she seemed to have lost the second he wrapped his arms around her.

After a few deep breaths, she walked back into the apartment, and David was still doing the dishes and Mary-Margaret was still drinking her cocoa. What had felt like hours could only have been a few minutes.

"You were out there for a while." David commented with a sly grin.

Alright, so maybe they were out there long enough for David to joke about it. Emma just shook her head at him and ventured upstairs, deciding to give David and Mary-Margaret as much privacy as the loft allowed.

Once she was out of her jeans and shirt and lying comfortably in bed, she found it impossible to sleep. With time to dwell on everything from the past couple of days, she could only think of the conversation that she'd heard on the recording from Regina's office.

She had so many questions for Jones, but she didn't trust him to answer any of them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments/kudos/etc. and thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me! I hope you all enjoy the chapter.

**Chapter 13**

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Mary-Margaret looked very hurried as she arrived in Granny's diner, her scarf haphazard and her beret lopsided. "Class ended late."

"There's that much to say about birds?" Emma asked with a chuckle, sliding the laminated menu over to Mary-Margaret as the teacher joined her in the booth. "I don't think I ever learnt a thing about them. Not that I really paid much attention at school anyway."

"There's a lot I can say about birds. But today, the class got a bit distracted making Valentine's Day cards." Mary-Margaret told her, clearly attempting to quell a smile and failing miserably. "It was nice to see how excited the children got."

Emma raised an eyebrow, taking in the teacher's bright, happy eyes, and then nodded in understanding. "I think it's you that's excited." she muttered with a teasing grin. "Are you and David doing something tonight?"

Mary-Margaret bit her lip and then laughed gleefully. "We are." she answered, her delight making her voice thick. "I mean, I don't know what it is he's got planned because he's insisting on surprising me, but yeah, we're doing something."

"Should I stay at the station tonight?" Emma suggested with a cheeky grin, another laugh escaping her when Mary-Margaret gaped at her. "I honestly don't mind if I have to. I've slept on that cot before and it's pretty comfortable."

Mary-Margaret blinked a few times, her cheeks flushed red, and then she shook her head. "Henry made  _you_  a card." She said suddenly, clearly wanting to change the subject. "He wanted me to tell you that he's sorry you'll be getting it a few days late, but you will be getting it."

"Oh." Emma said, swallowing her surprise. She hadn't expected  _anything_ from Henry. Did people even do that? Buy their mothers Valentine's Day cards? "Yeah, I can't see him today. He's doing something with Regina."

"You're not doing anything with Mr Jones?" Mary-Margaret questioned absently, and Emma frowned at her because that shouldn't be a question she was asked so easily. She didn't understand why Mary-Margaret would even assume they would be doing something.

"Nope." Emma said, smiling over at Ruby and waiting for the waitress to come over and take their orders. "Just a cheeseburger for me. Thanks, Ruby."

Mary-Margaret asked for a salad and then turned back to Emma with an expectant look. "Don't you  _want_ to be doing anything with him?"

"Not at all." Emma insisted. "Valentine's Day is a commercial holiday, nothing more, and even if I had someone to spend it with, which I  _don't_ , I wouldn't be celebrating."

"I wish I could think that way." Emma looked up at the new voice to see Ashley, the young girl looking utterly exhausted and rather miserable. "But no. Instead, I'm wishing I was celebrating while Sean is at work."

"Ashley!" Mary-Margaret exclaimed, nodding at the free seat next to her in the booth. "I didn't even recognise you."

"With the baby on the outside?" Ashley joked, taking the seat that had been offered. "I get it. Honestly, I still feel as if I was pregnant forever."

"How are things going?" Emma asked, relieved that Mary-Margaret appeared distracted from her previous line of questions. "You sound-"

"Annoyed?" Ashley sighed, leaning her cheek on her hand. "The baby's great. Really." She looked over towards Granny with a soft smile, and Emma noticed that Granny had Ashley's baby balanced on her hip. "But we haven't been able to do the whole marriage thing yet, which is rough. And Sean's been working double shifts at the cannery."

"Well, he has to work." Mary-Margaret said, although she did sound sympathetic.

"On Valentine's Day?" Ashley said with an irritated huff. "Yeah. He couldn't get out of it."

"I'm sorry." Emma said, and as mean as she felt even thinking it, she couldn't help but remember her own Valentine's Days, where things had been far worse than her boyfriend having to work. "That sucks."

Emma didn't mention the Valentine's Day she had spent heavily pregnant in prison and wishing Neal was with her, because despite how much he'd hurt her, it would be better than being alone. She also didn't mention the Valentine's Day she had spent at the police station, waiting to report that she'd found body parts in her boyfriend's freezer.

"It doesn't have to suck." Ruby said, appearing at their table suddenly with the food. "You could come out with me. Let's have a girl's night. We can all go. Mary-Margaret, you, Emma too if she agrees to leave the badge at home."

"I'm not really in a party mood." Emma stated. "And Mary-Margaret here is looking forward to her date with David Nolan. But you two should go and have fun."

"Come on, Emma." Ruby insisted, leaning her hip against the table and staring down at Emma with wide-eyes. "I need another single person there with me. You  _are_ single, right?"

"Yes." Emma said firmly, frowning up at the waitress. Honestly, she didn't really want to go out, especially with Ruby and Ashley, who were very good friends and only acquaintances with Emma.

"Well, then, Ashley, it's up to you to keep me from going home with Whale." Ruby instructed with a wry smile. "Because you know what will happen if we're both at the Rabbit Hole at the same time."

Ashley rolled her eyes, and then turned a slightly false smile towards Emma. "See, Sheriff. This is why you need to come with us too. Come on! Granny's already agreed to look after Alexandra for the night."

Emma smiled weakly, a relieved sigh escaping her when her phone rang. "I don't think I'll be free tonight." she told them, showing them the station's name written across the screen of her phone. "Duty calls."

Ruby took her burger away to pack it in a paper bag as Emma answered the phone. The voice on the end of the phone was automatic, an alert from the security station that Mr Gold's Pawnbrokers had been broken into.

"I have to go." Emma said, shrugging on her leather jacket and taking the paper bag from Ruby with a grateful smile. "See you later."

She wondered how amused Mary-Margaret would be if she found out that it was likely Emma  _would_ be spending the day with Killian Jones.

~~~*~~~

The alarm was still going off when Emma reached his shop, having heard the loud pealing noise from the other end of the street. It didn't look like Jones was there, and Emma had to admit she was surprised at the extent of the damage given that it was the middle of the day.

The front of the store looked perfectly intact, but the back door was broken open and through the window, Emma could see the chaos inside.

Carefully, she stepped through the door, wincing when she saw the way the wood had been splintered around the lock. From the look of it, she figured that the lock had been purposefully damaged by a hammer or some other blunt force.

The back room seemed untouched, so Emma hurried through it to the main shop, her jaw dropping when she saw how messy the shop was. A few things were smashed, Jones' maps crumpled but not torn and Emma couldn't tell if it was a robbery or simply vandalism.

"Swan?" She spun around when she heard Jones' voice behind her. He disengaged the alarm, and glanced around his shop with a vaguely disappointed and confused look. "What happened?"

"I don't know yet." she admitted. "I'll find out though."

He stepped past her, clambering over the clutter towards his nautical display, running his hand over the crumpled hand-drawn maps, the untouched spyglasses and the small ship wheel. He then moved to the counter, looking through the disarray surrounding it and then sighing loudly. "I'm rather certain I've been robbed, Sheriff."

"Again?" she teased, clambering over to him.

When everything was spread across the shop, it was clear just how many things were kept there. She wasn't even certain how Jones could notice something was missing.

"I have to admit it's rather embarrassing for a pirate like myself to be robbed like this." he commented idly, lifting an empty necklace stand from beneath the counter and placing it on one of the unbroken surfaces.

"You live on a pirate ship." Emma pointed out, a small smile curving her lips. "That doesn't make you a pirate."

Jones looked back at her, an amused smirk on his face. "I suppose it doesn't." he muttered.

"Do you have any idea what's been taken?" she asked, absently attempting to straighten out the creases on one of his Storybrooke maps. "It looks more like they've made a mess than actually taken anything."

"Unfortunately, no." He answered, putting a heavy book on the counter and looking down at it with a resigned expression. "I have everything written in this inventory, if you're interested in helping me sort through these objects whilst I reorganise everything. I believe it's the only way we'll find what's been taken."

She crossed the space in order to stand at his side, looking down at the neat script that clearly belonged to Jones. "So what? You want me to read through this entire thing as you tidy the shop?"

Jones nodded, and although it sounded like a tedious task, Emma agreed.

And yes, it was a rather exhausting process, but it wasn't too bad. Emma would read out an item and Jones would look through the clutter near its usual location until he found it. Anything they couldn't find was written on a list, to be crossed off only if they saw it during the rest of their search.

There were so many strange objects - a stuffed penguin, a selection of old toy robots, a few now-broken violins, animals skulls - and Jones appeared to have a place for every single one. Sometimes he would walk past her, his hand brushing the small of her back, as though he couldn't be near her without touching her.

"You're pretty cheerful for a guy whose shop has just been robbed." Emma commented, jotting down that a tea set was missing from the pawnbrokers. "I don't think I've ever seen someone look so happy about being the victim of a crime."

Jones chuckled, a low, attractive sound that caught Emma's full attention, that sent a shiver up her spine, and she looked up from the inventory to see him leaning across the counter and beaming at her. "Well, of course, Swan." He stated. "It means I get to spend the rest of the day with you."

Emma smiled at him and then focussed back on the list of things. "You don't need to sweet-talk me, Jones. I'm already helping you."

Jones' smile softened and he reached out towards her, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips to brush a warm, lingering kiss across her knuckles. "Is it sweet-talking, love, if it's the truth?"

Emma didn't answer. She only tugged her hand back and rolled her eyes, reading out the next object shakily. Jones hesitated for a brief moment before he returned to sorting through the things, the room already much tidier than it had been when they arrived.

It appeared to be the more expensive objects that were missing, Jones finding ring boxes and necklace stands but never any jewellery. Luckily, most of the things that were hanging from the ceiling remained untouched, the same as Jones' nautical display had, but Emma had figured that was more likely to be due to their height instead of any knowledge of Jones.

She'd decided that the nautical display must have been left alone because they knew Jones, although that hardly narrowed down the list of potential suspects. It just meant that it was unlikely the robbery was a personal attack.

She read through a few more pages, jotting down each item that Jones couldn't find. "Do you still have the unicorn mobile?" she asked, running her finger along the written words.

"Look up, Swan." Emma glanced up at his command, catching sight of a beautiful glass mobile that she'd somehow never noticed before. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Emma agreed, reaching up to nudge one of the blue-tinted glass animals. "It's a bit lopsided though."

Jones nodded, lifting his prosthetic hand to knock the same unicorn that she had, a boyish grin spreading across his face when it hit the nearest other unicorn and made a small chiming sound. "I know. Unfortunately, one of the unicorns fell off a few years ago."

He caught her eye and then an excited gleam appeared in his eye and he hurried behind the counter, opening up a small drawer and showing her a pink glass unicorn wrapped in a black scarf. "It didn't break?"

"No." Jones told her, pressing it into her hand. "You can have it, if you want. I think I'd like you to have it."

"What?" she asked, her fingers curling around the ornament. "Really?"

"You could call it a Valentine's Day gift, if you so desire." He suggested, clearly teasing. She was glad he didn't seem sincere, because she didn't do Valentine's Day and she definitely didn't want to admit to being glad about spending it with him. "Or just a gift. Nothing more."

And although she felt like she  _should_ say no, because maybe accepting the gift was implying something more, something about the glass unicorn was calling to her and she couldn't decline his offer.

"Thank you." she murmured, feeling strangely shy when she smiled at him. "You know, Valentine's Day isn't really my thing but I've had far worse ones than this." Jones raised an inquisitive eyebrow but Emma didn't elaborate. Instead, she placed the glass unicorn carefully beside the book and looked down at the book, hoping that Jones didn't notice her nervous swallow. "Being here with you is definitely better than listening to Mary-Margaret's excitement over her and David's mysterious plans."

Jones chuckled, turning away from her and starting to sweep the rest of the floor, a pleased, knowing smirk across his face. "I believe Dave has decided on an indoor picnic." Jones told her. "He told me last night that he was going to decorate the loft whilst Mary-Margaret was teaching. Something along the lines of fairy lights and shifting some of the furniture around so he could lay rugs around the room. He also seemed keen on showing her that she's not the only one who can cook. After a few drinks, though, I must admit I stopped listening. Sometimes, that man will just not stop talking."

That was definitely something she'd found out as she spent more time with David, and she couldn't stop herself from laughing at the comment. "I think my plan of sleeping at the station tonight was a good one. I feel like I'll be bound to walk in on something otherwise." Jones sniggered, the glance that he sent her way far too affectionate. "Look, um, do you have any idea who might have done this?"

She wanted the subject changed, wanted to say something that would stop him looking at her like that, because when he did, she felt lighter and she just wanted to smile back, wanted to show him that she felt similarly, wanted to go over to him and press herself against him, kiss him until her legs went weak and she needed him to hold her up.

And clearly, all this talk of Valentine's Day and romance, especially from Mary-Margaret, was getting to her, because she'd never entertained such thoughts before. She hadn't let herself.

"Unfortunately not." he told her. "I'll cooperate with your investigation though. No matter what questions you decide to ask me."

"Good." Emma teased, forcing a light smile even though she was preoccupied with the terrifying feeling of ease - and desire - that settled over her every time he sent her that warm smile. "Because I wouldn't want to have to tie you up. You know, obstruction of justice and all that?"

"I don't think I'd object too much to that." he murmured, and Emma laughed in surprise, the jest having been totally unexpected. She watched him continue to clean, relaxing slightly when they fell into a comfortable silence.

And then he paused, leaning down to pick up something and then turning to show her a single gaudy earring.

"What's that?"

"It's Lacey's." Emma frowned up at him, at the dangly earring. "Lacey did this. I don't know why, but it was her."

~~~*~~~

Emma had left Jones sorting out the rest of his shop, as apparently his version of tidy was far different to Emma's, and made her way across the street to the library.

She walked through the stacks of books towards the entrance to Lacey's apartment, knocking on the door when she reached it. She had to rap her knuckles on the door a few more times before she heard movement, and when Lacey finally opened it before Emma, she just looked resigned and small, which wasn't helped by the over-sized sweater she was wearing.

"Sheriff." Lacey said quietly, her arms folded across her stomach and refusing to meet Emma's eyes. "I guess you want to come in, right?"

"Can I?" Emma asked, and Lacey nodded, standing aside and letting Emma head up the dingy, narrow staircase to the small apartment.

The apartment was a mess, clothes strewn across the floor and piles of books towering precariously at various places in the dark room. Lacey hurriedly cleaned a few things off the small velvet sofa and then gestured for Emma to take a seat.

"So, Sheriff Swan," Lacey started, one hand still resting against her stomach, the other toying with a metal bottle cap that she'd picked up from the glass coffee table. "I thought I might be seeing you."

Emma nodded, still looking around the room. Although most of the room seemed uncared for, there were a few photos framed on the tables. There were some of her and Ruby, the two of them dressed up and pouting at the camera, Dr Whale featuring occasionally with the familiar, lecherous grin he liked to wear around Ruby. The one that caught Emma's attention, however, was of Lacey and Jones. Lacey was leaning into his side, pool cue in hand, but Jones seemed entirely unaware that the photo was being taken, mouth open mid-word, clearly talking to someone not in the picture.

"You and Jones really are close, right?" Emma asked, turning away from the picture to pay more attention to Lacey. "I mean, I know he thinks you are."

"Yeah." Lacey answered, swallowing nervously and then plastering a mischievous smirk across her face. "He's great. He's...  _fun_."

"Right." Emma said tersely, crossing her arms across her chest and scowling at the other woman. "So, can you tell me where you were at half twelve today?"

Lacey shrugged. "Here." she answered, and even without her superpower, Emma would have known she was lying from the way she refused to make eye contact and fiddled even more anxiously with the bottle cap. "Normally I'm out so late that I'm sleeping until the afternoon."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to try that again, Lacey?" Lacey shook her head, and tried to surreptitiously nudge a rather large handbag behind the side of the couch. "Or how about you let me look inside that bag?"

Lacey laughed nervously. "My bag?" she repeated, pretending to sound curious, and then she laughed again, although it sounded more forced than before. "Look, Emma. Can I call you Emma? You don't have to be jealous. Killian and I have never…. well, not that I haven't  _wanted_  to because I have eyes, but we're just friends. So there's no need to sound so  _angry_."

"I'm not angry." Emma knew she sounded even sterner than before, but Lacey's words had struck a chord with her that she didn't want to try and explain. "And I'm not jealous. I just want to know if I can look in your bag. And if not, then I'll get a warrant."

Lacey blinked and glanced away from Emma, her eyes red and watery, Without another word, she shoved the bag towards Emma and then curled up, her arms wrapped around her knees, head resting on top of them.

Emma unzipped the bag, rummaging through it to see that a tea set was filling most of the space, jewellery tangled together at the bottom of the bag. "Lacey," she began, trying to keep her voice level and comforting. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine." Lacey bit out shakily. "I guess you want to take me down to the station now, right?"

"Are you  _sure_ you're okay?" Emma repeated, because despite her words, Lacey looked different than usual. Lacey glanced up at her, shook her head and exhaled loudly and then her expression hardened, and she fixed Emma with a familiar sly smile.

But Emma could recognise a mask.

"I'm fine, Sheriff." She insisted firmly, straightening up and leaning back in a faux-confident pose that did absolutely nothing to persuade Emma that she wasn't lying. "Really. I just hope that our time at the station won't take too long. I have an appointment later."

~~~*~~~

Lacey was quiet when they reached the station, asking Emma if she could take a seat and then curling up on the cell cot before Emma could even say anything. Emma let her rest and focused on unpacking all the stolen objects from the bag, detangling all the necklaces from one another.

"It really was Lacey, then?" Emma twisted towards the doorway when she heard Jones' voice. He walked towards her, his expression serious. Once he reached Emma's side, his hand came to rest at the small of her back, peering over her shoulder at the variety of items that had been stolen from him. "You do realise, Emma, that I'm not going to press any charges?"

"I thought that might be the case." she admitted, looking over at the prone, sleeping figure of Lacey. "Do you know if she's alright, Jones? Something seems wrong."

"She's not told me anything." Jones told her, his brows furrowed in concern as he gazed at Lacey. "And if something is bothering her, I'm ashamed to admit I haven't noticed. She's seemed perfectly normal whenever we've gone out for drinks."

"I don't think normal involves ransacking your shop." Emma murmured, slightly distracted by a knot she'd found in a thin, golden chain. "But I barely know her."

Jones exhaled loudly and then crossed over to the couch next to the cell. "Lacey?" he called out, and the woman stirred.

Emma tried to distract herself with untangling the jewellery, but she wasn't far enough away to not be privy to their conversation.

"Killian?" Lacey mumbled, leaving her place on the cot to take a seat next to him. "You're here? Are you angry?"

"I'm not angry." Jones told her, and Emma watched him place his hand gingerly on Lacey's shoulder. "Although, I will admit to being confused. Why did you steal from me?"

Lacey sent Emma a wary look, but seemed to decide she was alright with talking even with Emma so close. "I needed the money. I figured you'd be out with the Sheriff anyway, you know, because it's Valentine's Day. I figured I'd have the time to steal from the shop. I didn't think there'd be an alarm."

Emma frowned over at the two of them, because really, did every single person think she was going to be spending Valentine's Day with him?

Jones seemed more preoccupied with Lacey, although that was understandable. "Lacey, if you needed anything, you know I'll always help you."

"I can't always ask you to help me, Killian." Lacey told him with a sigh, her hands tangled together anxiously. "I just needed some savings."

"Lacey, if this about the money you owe me, you know there is no need for you to repay me until you can." he said, his voice low and steady, as if he was talking to a skittish animal. "And if it isn't, please tell me. Are you alright?"

Lacey looked from Jones to Emma, bit her lip and let out a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Jones gaped at Lacey and then took her hand in his, a soft, sympathetic expression on his face. "Pregnant?

"Yeah." she stammered, tugging her hand away from his and resting it against her stomach. "Twelve weeks now, apparently.."

"Twelve?" Jones repeated, glancing over Lacey's body as though looking for any differences, anything obvious he might have missed. "But you've-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Lacey interrupted, appearing to shrink slightly. "I've still been drinking. I didn't want my life to change, Killian, but I'm starting to realise that that isn't going to happen. I ignored what was happening for too long and now there's nothing I can do but have this baby. It hit me, a couple of days ago, that I don't know what to do. And whatever I do do is going to require more money than I have."

Jones tilted his head and then stretched out his arm to pull Lacey into his side. "Who's is it?"

"It's Keith's." Lacey answered easily, running her hand across her face, a sob escaping her. "But he doesn't know. I haven't… no one knew. I suppose everyone will know soon though. And they'll all think that it was bound to happen."

Emma swallowed, remembering her encounter with Lacey a few weeks earlier, at the Dark Star Pharmacy. She'd forgotten about it since, but Lacey had reminded her of Mr Clark's words -  _It was only a matter of time_  - and she felt a twinge of sympathy towards the other woman.

Emma too had been on the end of judgemental looks and statements when she was barely seventeen and pregnant. She knew just how hard it was. And she knew how hard it must have been for Lacey, because if she was at twelve weeks now, Emma imagined she was pretty certain about the results when she bought the pregnancy tests less than month earlier.

"You need  _anything_ ," Jones said, his jaw clenched and looking surprisingly angry. "Just let me know."

Lacey shook her head and stood up, brushing her finger underneath her eyes, wiping away imaginary tears. "Thank you, Killian. But it's fine. I'll be fine. These last few days, I just got a bit desperate."

Jones raised a doubtful eyebrow, and then strode past Lacey to stand beside Emma at the table with the recovered objects. "Okay, Lacey. Then let me give you a gift. One gift. Pick anything from here and you can have it."

"I'm not a charity case, Killian." Lacey said firmly, but she seemed fixated by something on the table. And then she reached out, running her finger along the rim of a chipped tea cup. "But if you're certain, can I have this?"

"It's not going to sell for much, love." Jones pointed out, but Lacey didn't seem to be listening. Instead, her gaze was locked on the china cup, rubbing her thumb across it fondly, as though it meant something, though her expression suggested she was as perplexed by it as Emma felt. "But if you want it, then of course."

Lacey smiled, the most honest smile she'd worn all day, and then clutched the cup to her chest. "Thank you."

"I'll walk you home, love." he said, and Lacey's smile turned warmer, fonder. "If that's alright."

"It's fine." Lacey told him. "If you mind walking me to the hospital instead. I have an appointment with Dr Whale." Her gaze hardened as she turned towards Emma. "Don't tell anyone." she ordered, and Emma nodded in agreement. "I want people to find out on my terms. Not because of some rumour."

"Emma won't tell, Lacey, no need to worry." Jones said, bending slightly to press a kiss to Emma's cheek in farewell. "Now, love, I'll return once Lacey's settled, alright?"

"You don't have to." Emma protested, ignoring Lacey's eye-roll. "Really."

"Come on, Swan. You spent most of the day with me at my shop." Jones said over his shoulder as he led Lacey away. "The least I can do is buy you dinner as you sort out all of this paperwork."

~~~*~~~

Emma had started to wonder whether all of her cases would bring back memories she'd rather forget. She'd tried to ignore the recollections that had been triggered by Ashley's case, and Ava and Nicolas's case, and now, Lacey had reminded her of everything she had tried to forget.

She  _understood_ Lacey. Emma had been alone and desperate and pregnant, and Emma couldn't help but wish she had someone back then,  _anyone_ , when she'd seen how patient and comforting Jones had been.

Emma hadn't even had a friend.

The report was finished quickly enough. With Jones not pressing charges, the incident only needed to be on record. She had, however, hoped it would take longer. Long enough to justify her not returning to the loft and interrupting Mary-Margaret and David's date.

Mary-Margaret would be apologising for days if she realised that Emma had stayed away from the loft because of her date, and paperwork would have been a valid excuse.

"Hot cocoa for the lady?" Emma twisted in her chair to see Jones striding back across the station, a bounce in his step. She hadn't expected him to actually return, and she couldn't suppress the surprised smile that graced her face. "I figured you might need it."

"I didn't think you were actually going to come back." she stated, stretching her hand out to take the drink from him, a pleased sigh escaping her when she took a sip and tasted the cinnamon, cream and cocoa. "I thought that Lacey might want you to stay with her."

"She seemed rather keen to be left alone, as a matter of fact." Jones admitted, crossing the space between the two of them so that he was hovering next to her, placing a paper bag from Granny's on the desk. "And I had a few things that I felt I needed to say to you."

"What?"

"Thank you." Jones murmured, and she turned to look up at him when she felt his hand on her shoulder. "I want you to know how grateful I am for all the help you've given me. With the robbery today, and the stolen contract. I don't believed I ever expressed my gratitude for that."

She blinked at him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "You don't need to thank me for doing my job, Killian."

"It wasn't your job back then." He pointed out, his hand moving gently over her back, a comforting, repetitive movement that she leaned into.

Emma shrugged in response. "I wasn't going to let you stay in that cell when you were innocent." she said honestly, and he raised his eyebrows at her. "And yeah, I know I was the one that put you there in the first place. That's why it was so important. So really, you don't have to thank me for anything."

Jones gazed at her, his eyes darting over her face, her mouth, and his hand grazed over her shoulder to rest on her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the curve of her lips. "Emma," he muttered, his voice a low, hoarse whisper. "I do have to thank you."

"Why?" Emma asked, watching Jones as he knelt down in front of her, his hand still on her face, his prosthetic resting on her knee.

He looked up at her, capturing her in his blue gaze. "I have to thank you because everyday was the same before you, Emma. Everyday was meaningless until you."

She didn't know what to say, her lips parting in a silent gasp and her eyes wide, and then he rose only a few inches and brushed his lips across hers in a slow, tender kiss that felt as if it was setting her aflame.

And then, far too soon, he pulled away, his forehead resting against hers for only a moment. He stood up, starting to walk away, and Emma's mind was blissfully blank.

Except for him. She could only think of him.

She wasn't even sure how she moved so fast. All she knew was that one moment she was sitting in her chair and then the next, she was just behind him and turning him around so he was facing her. He canted his head, the same searching earnestness in his eyes as there had been just before he kissed her, and Emma could only do one thing.

"Killian." she breathed, and she didn't give him a chance to say anything, she just tugged him towards her and kissed him. For only a second, he didn't respond, and then his arms were around her, and Emma was  _surrounded_ by him.

It was _everything_ \- desperate, intense - and his every touch felt as though he was burning through her. He pulled her even closer, the lines of their bodies pressed together so there was no space between them, his right arm hooked around her, the pressure at the small of her back pushing her impossibly closer to him.

It had been so long since she had been kissed like this, and even longer since she had wanted it so much.

She couldn't remember ever wanting  _anything_  as much, not when his mouth was moving furiously over hers.

And then the kiss slowed, Killian pulling away from her for a moment, their noses still brushing as they both caught their breath, and then she was consumed by him again. He caught her upper lip between his, tugging her gently towards him, each new kiss long and dragging and  _perfect_.

All of a sudden, everything was far too much.

She broke the kiss, needing a moment to take in a few shaky breaths, and she couldn't move. Not yet. She had to be near him, had to spend the time simply revelling in the peace she found in his arms.

He chuckled, tilting his head to rest his forehead against her again, a soft, brilliant smile teasing his lips. "Oh, Emma," he whispered, angling his head so his lips brushed hers with every word. "That was… Years of monotony were worth it if they led me to this. To you."

Her heart was beating far too fast. She couldn't do this. She'd come to Storybrooke for  _Henry_ , not to get involved in another entanglement that was bound to leave her hurt. As much as she liked Killian - and after that kiss, she couldn't deny that she felt for him - she'd spent the last few weeks becoming increasingly aware of how she couldn't trust him.

He was involved in something he refused to explain to her, and she refused to let herself fall further for someone who was keeping so much from her. Especially when their relationship had already become far too intimate than she was able to cope with.

"You should go." she muttered shakily, feeling cold when he stepped away from her, his fist clenched at his side and his stare uncertain. "Killian, you have to go. Please."

He ran his tongue along his lips, his hand rising to scratch awkwardly behind his ear and then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

She had to stop herself from following him.

Once Emma heard the door close, she stumbled back to her chair, uneasy on her feet, and slumped forward, head in her hands. She could do friendship, and she could do just sex, but she'd decided long ago that anything more made her too vulnerable, and whatever she had with Killian - no,  _Jones_  - made her feel more exposed than she had allowed herself to be in a very long time.

And as she picked at the lasagne Jones had brought her, she figured that at least she could comfort herself with the knowledge that it hadn't been her worst Valentine's Day.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you to colormyheartred for reading this through for me.

**Chapter 14**

Emma hadn't slept. She'd tried, but instead of sleeping, she'd been consumed with thoughts of what if's. She'd run through so many scenarios, tried to imagine what would have happened if she'd not spoken, if she'd not sent Jones away.

Except she'd realised that she couldn't picture anything further than kissing him again, of wrapping herself around him and being thoroughly possessed by him. And when she  _had_ slept, she had dreamt of the two of them, entangled together and lost in one another.

She hadn't allowed herself to envision anything further, because she didn't do relationships deeper than the physical one she pictured and she hated that she was wishing she felt differently.

Eventually she dragged herself out of bed, running her hand through her hair to break the knots caused by hours of tossing and turning, and stumbled down the stairs to see David looking in the fridge and scowling.

"We're out of milk." David said sadly, not even turning to look at Emma. "Need anything from the store?"

"I thought you'd be at work." Emma stated quietly, ignoring David's curious look as she curled up on the couch under one of Mary-Margaret's crocheted blankets. "And no. I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

"Sorry if that's because of us." David apologised, Emma shaking her head in response.

Emma had returned home late, distracting herself with minesweeper at the station until she was certain David and Mary-Margaret would no longer be occupied. She'd quietly snuck upstairs when she got home, not wanting to wake either of them.

But her lack of sleep had nothing to do with that.

"Are you off work today too?" David asked, perching on the arm of the couch and frowning down at her. "Because if so, we should do something. I hate hanging around the house all day. Although I'm busy at one o'clock."

Emma really didn't feel like going out, but she shrugged in response. David looked a bit unsure about what to say next, and Emma would have prompted him if not for the fact that she didn't really want a conversation with anyone.

After a vaguely uncomfortable silence, David seemed to decide that going to buy milk was a better use of his time than sitting around and waiting for Emma to be more sociable.

She watched him go, catching sight of the small glass unicorn Jones had given her sitting on the coffee table. She couldn't stop herself from reaching out for it and cradling it in her hands, the ex-decoration comforting her in a way she couldn't explain.

Emma wondered why she felt as terrible as she did.

Except maybe it wasn't such a mystery. Emma had relied on his easy company and enjoyed his simple, quick affections, revelling in the newness of them even if she hadn't been able to breath whenever he felt like bestowing them upon her. Even if she hadn't felt like she was capable of returning them.

And then when she had, when she'd given in and kissed him the way she had wanted to for  _so long_ , she'd realised what that meant. Realised that what she had with Jones could easily become more than she could handle, could become a danger to her, and she'd been terrified of that.

Not of him, but everything that would have come with being with him.

She'd learnt long ago that being with someone was never worth the risk, no matter how badly she wanted it.

That didn't mean she couldn't mourn the loss of a relationship that had somehow come to mean so much to her. After all, Emma was rather certain that after the way she had rejected him the night before, Jones would be giving up on her pretty soon. If he hadn't already.

She wished she wanted him to give up on here, but part of her hoped he'd be the first person who didn't.

"Not only did I get milk, but I got ice cream and chocolate as well." Emma jumped when she heard David's voice, having been too distracted by her own thoughts to hear him return. "I mean, try not to get overexcited."

Emma rolled her eyes at him, but gave him grateful smile as he passed her the large bar of Apollo chocolate. "I'll try."

David chuckled, Emma watching him busy himself with putting the milk away and then serving himself a liberal amount of chocolate ice cream. "Don't tell Mary-Margaret about my ice cream for breakfast." He instructed, joining her on the couch. "I don't think she'd understand."

Emma sighed, taking a large bite of chocolate and then grinning over at David. "What made you buy these then?"

David took a while to answer, levelling Emma with a searching stare before shrugging. "I saw Killian at the store." He answered cautiously, watching Emma for her reaction. Emma swallowed, desperately trying not to look as if hearing his name had sent pain lancing through her. "He looked pretty hung-over. And he may have told me he drank plenty of rum last night. More than I could handle, apparently. But I figured that if Killian was finding solace in rum, maybe that was why you were a bit out of sorts this morning."

Emma gaped at him, not entirely sure what to say. "Uh, David, I-"

"I'm not asking for an explanation, Emma." David said, waving his spoon around in emphasis, a drop of ice cream falling onto his trousers. "I just thought you might want something comforting. I don't know  _what_ comforts you, but chocolate always works for me."

"Well, thanks." She muttered, looking away with a snigger when David noticed the spilt ice cream and mumbled angrily about how he'd just washed his trousers. "I think I needed this."

David beamed at her, settling further into the couch. "Well, good. And if you feel like doing anything, I'm up for whatever."

"There's not much to do in Storybrooke." Emma pointed out, and David laughed. "And we'd have to be done by one, right?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Kathryn." David explained through another mouthful of ice cream. "She's seeing someone and I'm seeing Mary-Margaret so we figured we should get started on those divorce papers. It's not that much of an issue though, because we don't really have any belongings to split as I'm happy for Kathryn to keep everything I don't remember. Which is everything."

He grinned winningly at her, but Emma was starting to recognise the uncertainty that appeared whenever he joked about his amnesia. So, instead of saying anything, she just tried to smile comfortingly at him.

He smiled back. "So, if you don't feel like doing anything, we could have that poker rematch you've been delaying?"

" _You_ ' _ve_ been delaying." Emma corrected, relaxing for what felt like the first time since she'd kissed Killian less than a day before. "But sure. Just be prepared, David, because you know I'm to going to kick your ass. Again."

~~~*~~~

Emma had walked through town with David when he was on his way to meet Kathryn, parting from him when they passed Storybrooke Coffee. She knew she needed to go to work eventually - she couldn't really justify staying away from the station because she was moping - so she decided to pick up a grilled cheese, which was bound to cheer her up, before heading to the station.

However, when she approached Granny's, she had to draw to a halt because Jones and Lacey were walking right towards her and she had  _not_ planned on seeing Jones that day.

They stopped too, and Emma clenched her fists, having to stop herself from moving closer, from stepping up to him and smoothing away the dark lines under his eyes. God, she was  _so_  much worse now that she'd admitted how she felt to herself.

He looked exhausted, his hair messy and his eyes dull, the eyeliner darker and more smudged than she'd ever seen. But when he looked up and noticed her, his lips quirked up into a small, hesitant smile.

She refused to smile back, and when he noticed her reluctance, his smile faded and he nodded his head slightly, as if accepting her response.

"Afternoon, Sheriff." Lacey said suddenly, and Emma realised she had just been standing and looking at Jones for far too long. "Getting lunch?"

"I am, yes." She replied stiltedly, determinedly not looking at Jones. "You?"

"Indeed." Jones confirmed, and Emma noticed his jaw was tense, his fist clenched, but he seemed intent of try to act as though nothing was different. "I felt that after the events of yesterday, Lacey and I needed to start organising our time together so that we drink less alcohol. I figured that lunch at Granny's was probably better than an evening out at the Rabbit Hole."

"I guess." she stated dryly, relief filling her when she heard someone calling out for the Sheriff. She turned to see Storybrooke's visitor, the stubbled author, approaching her from the entrance to Granny's. "Uh, yes?"

"I've been meaning to bump into you." The man said, a wide smile on his face and Emma looked from him to Jones. Jones was staring at the author, his eyes narrowed and appearing completely oblivious to how Lacey was nudging his side and insisting they go inside for food. "As a matter of fact, I was hoping we might get that drink you promised."

Emma gaped at him. She'd completely forgotten about the drink he had manipulated her into agreeing to, and she felt furious that he'd brought it up now, in front of Jones and Lacey.

She spared an anxious look at the other two, biting her lip when she saw Jones was scowling at the floor and Lacey was looking as though she was watching something very exciting. Emma hated being someone's source of amusement, but she was unsure how to escape the situation.

"Is that you asking me out?" she asked suspiciously, ignoring the angry huff that she was certain had come from Jones.

"Well, if putting a label on it makes you more comfortable, sure." The writer said with a smug grin, and Emma rolled her eyes, because putting a label on it definitely didn't make her feel more comfortable and definitely made her  _not_ want to drink with him. "Let's call it a date."

"I thought you came here to write." she pointed out, shuffling awkwardly at the flirtatious grin he sent her way. And normally, she might have agreed to a one-off date with a guy who looked like him, would have accompanied him home and lost herself in him for a couple of hours, but she didn't feel interested at all. "To find inspiration."

The writer laughed. "Well, I'm optimistic about our date."

"See, I have a policy." Emma said firmly, hating the way that the writer seemed amused. "I won't go out with guys who won't tell me their names. I find it weeds out the ones who like to keep secrets, like they're already married or they store body parts in their freezer. It was nice talking to you."

She took in a deep breath and strode past him, glancing to her side when she felt someone walking beside her. It was Lacey, and when she looked past her to search for Jones, she was surprised to see him marching back down Main Street and away from her, Lacey and the writer.

"It's August." The man called after her, and Emma turned around to see him leaning against the fence surrounding the outdoor patio of the diner, "August W. Booth."

"Really?" she drawled, raising her eyebrow. "With the middle initial?"

"The W's for Wayne. I guess there goes your reason for not meeting me here after work."

Emma groaned and entered the diner without replying, Lacey still at her side. "I think we should have lunch together." Lacey commented, picking up a laminated menu and gazing intently at it. "Seeing as you scared away the guy who  _would_ have been paying for my lunch."

Emma blinked at her and then shrugged in acquiescence, following Lacey to the nearest booth. "I suppose I can avoid the station for a bit longer."

Lacey laughed, although not for long, fixing Emma with a surprisingly stern gaze. "Look, Emma, Killian is a decent guy. He doesn't deserve to be led on like this. Just decide what you want from him and let him know."

"I'm not leading him on." Emma protested, reading the menu instead of meeting Lacey's annoyingly judgemental gaze. "I'm just… look, Jones has far too many things that he refuses to explain and I can't let myself get involved with someone like that. Not that it's any of your business anyway."

"That's  _it_?" Lacey said with a harsh chuckle. "Really? That's your only reason for doing whatever it was you did that's made him so miserable? Listen. I've known Killian for…. well, as long as I can remember, and he just smiles more when you're around. And once he's had a few shots of rum, well, you're all he talks about. It's getting annoying. Make sure he know what he's getting into, because if you let him keep hoping for something that isn't going to happen, you're just going to hurt him. And maybe you don't want him like  _that_ , but you don't want to hurt him, right?"

Before Emma got a chance to say anything, not that she'd even begun to construct a response, Lacey called over Ruby and ordered a double cheeseburger with two sides, Emma going for her usual grilled cheese.

"I just had to say that." Lacey told her. "Because for whatever reason, Killian looks out for me. I think I should return the favour. But that's not why I really want to talk to you."

"So why do you want to talk to me then?" Emma asked, thankful that Lacey seemed to not require an answer to her previous question. "To remind me not to tell? Because I won't."

"No." Lacey said, tapping her fingers nervously against the rim of the table. "No. It's just that Killian told me that you're the mayor's son's birth mother. I figured, if that was true, maybe I could talk to you? I don't really know what I'm doing."

"I don't know what I'm doing either." Emma told her sharply, because it was the last thing she had expected to hear from Lacey. "I had him and then ten years later, he dragged me to this place and I'm doing everything I can just to  _get to know_ him. I doubt I can help you."

Lacey sighed loudly, grinning enthusiastically when Ruby arrived and placed their meals in front of them. "Sure, sure. I bet you still know more than me though."

Emma doubted it. Lacey might be irresponsible, but she was still the only librarian at the Storybrooke library, and there was bound to be more information available in books than from Emma.

Then again, Emma remembered wanting someone to help her and she could hardly blame Lacey for reaching out towards her if she thought Emma might understand. She might have done the same, given the chance.

"I don't know. Don't come to me for medical advice." Emma said, taking a bite of her sandwich. "But I suppose we could talk. Sometimes."

Lacey beamed at her, digging into to her meal. "Great."

~~~*~~~

Emma's talk with Lacey, especially when she spoke of getting to know her son, had inspired her to attempt to see Henry that day. It had been a while since they had found time together, especially time when Emma wasn't slightly preoccupied with a case.

She spent most of the day in the sheriff station, checking that any calls to the department would automatically forward to her phone, and then as soon as it drew close to the time Henry would finish school for the day, she locked up and wandered through town towards the Elementary School.

She  _may_  have gone the long way in order to avoid walking past Mr. Gold's Pawnbrokers.

"Henry?" She called out, arriving just in time to see the children filing out of the school, waving at him when he turned to face her. "Do you have time to talk?"

Henry frowned slightly, but he left the group of kids to wander over to Emma, his smile growing as he approached her. "I have to meet my mom at her office." he told her apologetically. "If I'm late, she'll probably ground me."

Emma grimaced, taking a seat on one of the benches near the school gates and gesturing for him to join her. "I won't keep you long, kid." She promised, nudging his shoulder with hers when he sat next to her. "I just wanted to see you. It's been a while, right?"

"Yeah." Henry agreed, beaming up at her. "I actually have something for you."

Emma raised her eyebrows, remembered Mary-Margaret telling her that Henry had made her a Valentine's Day card, and she couldn't stop the warm feeling that filled her when he passed her a sealed envelope.

She opened it, her smile fading slightly when she saw the colourful drawing that she recognised as Henry's rather good attempt at reproducing the picture of Princess Leia and Charles from the book. Part of her had hoped that the book being missing would have lessened his interest in the fairy tale theory, but she should have known better.

"This is me and Prince Charles?" she confirmed, and Henry nodded, an expectant look at her. "It's great, Henry. Thanks."

"It would have been better if I had the book." Henry mumbled with a bashful smile, and Emma shook her head, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "I couldn't remember everything."

"I'm not lying, kid. It really is fantastic." she insisted, opening the card up and blinking in disbelief when she read what he had written inside. "'To Emma. Happy Valentine's Day. I'm glad you stayed. Love, Henry.' Oh, kid."

Henry glanced away, and Emma stared up at the sky, completely unsure about what to say in reply. So she just ruffled his hair again. "I guess I'll stick it on the fridge or something." she stated awkwardly, the card held carefully in her hands. "That's what moms do, right?"

Henry turned around to look at her, his expression disbelieving and happy. "Yeah, I think so."

"You know, Henry," she started, running her finger over the coloured pencil picture of Prince Charles. "I'm still going to find your book. And when I do, you can read me the whole story of Princess Leia and her prince again."

"You don't need to find it." Henry said unconvincingly, and Emma smiled reassuringly at him. "I mean, I still remember that story. I read it a lot after I found you."

Emma smiled fondly down at him, uncertain if she really did want to hear the story again, not with the link that Henry insisted it had to Jones. Then again, that idea was ridiculous, and listening to her son reading her a story he enjoyed was far more important to her than a few ridiculous ideas about the story being about her and Jones.

"I have to go, Emma." Henry said quietly, and Emma nodded. "See you soon?"

"Definitely." she promised, pulling him into her side for a brief hug, and then watching him walk away, smiling over at him when he turned to wave back her.

When he was out of sight, she sighed, glancing back at the card he had drawn for her. She'd never had  _anything_ handmade given to her, had never had anyone who cared enough. Mary-Margaret had told her he had made her a card, but the she hadn't been prepared for the way the gift had made her feel choked up.

She read it through a couple more times, the few words meaning more than she could have ever expected.

And maybe she wasn't going to put it on the fridge, but it was definitely going to be displayed proudly on her desk at the Sheriff station.

~~~*~~~

Emma had debated not even showing up at Granny's that evening, but then she remembered that she'd promised to look into August a couple of weeks before. It had taken her long enough to get his name, and she wondered if one outing would be enough for her to find out more about Storybrooke's mysterious visitor.

She could pretend it was a date if it got her information. She'd done that plenty of times before.

Except she wasn't hoping to arrest him and then never see him again. Things were different in Storybrooke.

Perhaps it was better to make it clear to August that whatever he thought it was, it  _wasn't_.

August and his motorbike pulled up beside Granny's only minutes after Emma arrived and he'd just looked expectantly at her instead of getting off his bike.

"Are you going to come in?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, already impatient for the forced drink to be over. "I thought you wanted that drink."

"I do." August said with a sly smile, nodding towards the space behind him on the motorcycle. "But not here. Hop on."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You want me to get on the back of that bike?" she said disbelievingly. She definitely didn't go with people she barely knew to unknown places, and August wasn't going to be an exception. "Dream on, buddy. Maybe if you tell me where we're going and you let me drive, I'll reconsider."

"That's what 'hop on' means." August said, his grin widening. "And I think you  _will_ join me. Because, really, Sheriff, one day you're going to need to stop having to control everything and I think that day should be today. I promise, all we're doing is going to a pretty good watering hole that I know of."

"And where would that watering hole be?" Emma insisted.

August chuckled. "It's a surprise. Now hop on."

"Or we just get the drink at Granny's like I had expected."

"Trust me. It's a good watering hole."

"You only told me your name when I wouldn't agree to go out with you." Emma reminded him. "Doesn't inspire much trust."

"Nevermind trust then." August commented smoothly, tossing her a helmet that she only just managed to catch. "Why don't we make this simple and you get on the bike because you owe me a drink?"

Emma took in a deep breath, certain that August was going to keep persisting until she agreed. And that even if she managed to get out of this, he'd be back and asking to go out again. Besides, she could take of herself. She even had her gun with her.

"Fine."

She put on the helmet and clambered onto the bike behind him, her hands resting lightly on his waist and shuffling until she felt comfortable. He started driving without a warning, Emma automatically tightening her hold on him as they sped along Main Street and headed out of town.

Just before they reached the 'You are now leaving Storybrooke' sign, August made a sharp turn into a narrow dirt road that wound up to one the higher points of the area, a place Emma hadn't explored, and she had to wonder whether or not she should be concerned that he seemed to be taking her to some off-track area instead of bar like he had implied.

But people would miss her if she mysteriously disappeared, which was pretty novel for her. And she was sure Lacey and Jones wouldn't remain quiet if she never returned from the drink with August.

Not that she was worried. She'd been in far worse situations before and she was adept at taking care of herself. However, it was nice to know that this time people might actually notice her absence.

They drew to a stop next to an old well, and Emma's eyebrows rose. When he had said watering hole, she had thought he meant a bar, but apparently August was a bit more literal. "Really?"

"Say what you want about me, but I always tell the truth." August told her with a grin, taking her helmet when she handed it to him and then joining her by the well.

"I thought a drink meant wine or, I don't know, rum?" She pointed out, peering over the edge of the wall to gaze down the apparently unending hole into the earth. "Not water."

"What?" August asked in amusement, and Emma raised an eyebrow, turning her head to look at him. "Do you  _want_ me to get you drunk?"

"No."

August smirked. "Next time then."

"I don't think so." Emma said firmly, but August simply chuckled, collecting two mugs from the motorcycle and then handing her to them so that he could start to pull up water from the well. "And if we do happen to share a drink sometime, it'll be somewhere slightly more public than this place."

He laughed again. "Sure." He agreed, handing her a mug that she just held in her hands and didn't drink. "You know, they say there's something special about this well. There's even a legend. They say that the water from the well is fed by an underground lake, and that lake has magical properties."

It was Emma's turn to laugh. "Magic?" she repeated, that word far too familiar to her than she would have liked. "You sound like Henry."

"Smart kid." August commented off-handedly. "This legend, though. It says that if you drink the water from the well, something lost will be returned to you."

"You know an awful lot about this town for being a stranger."

"And you know very little for being the Sheriff." August joked, and now that he wasn't bringing up drinks and dates, Emma felt far more comfortable around him. "Don't feel bad though. I only know because I read the plaque."

She grinned at him, shaking the mug in her hand gently and watching the ripples in the water. "You actually believe that? In magic?"

August shrugged, a strangely knowing look in his eye. "I have an open mind. Besides, water is a very powerful thing. Cultures as old as time have worshipped it. It flows throughout all the lands, connecting the entire world. If anything had mystical properties - if anything had  _magic_ \- well, I'd say it'd be water."

"That's asking a lot to believe on faith."

"If you need evidence for everything, Emma, you're going to find yourself stuck in one place for a long time."

Emma shook her head slightly, because in her line of work, evidence  _was_ required for everything, and she'd long learnt that it was easy to be misled when she relied only on faith. Evidence told the truth. Faith didn't. "Maybe. I think it's more likely I'll just find the truth before anyone else."

August smiled at Emma, clearly amused. "Well, Miss Skeptic, there's one thing I can tell you for sure that requires no leap of faith, and I know you'll agree with me."

"What's that?"

"It's good water." August said with a small smile, holding out his mug towards her as though asking for a toast. Emma rolled her eyes, but allowed a small smile to escape and raised her cup to his.

~~~*~~~

Emma had asked August about a few of his stories, although he'd only responded with vague tales and mysterious quips, which had gotten really old, really soon. A few more glasses of water and a couple more reiterations that their outing wasn't a date, no matter what August called it, and Emma had insisted on returning to the center of town.

August  _had_ asked if she wanted to be dropped off at home, but Emma decided it was probably better for him to just leave her at Granny's. It wasn't a date, so she wasn't going to end their outing in any way that could give him the wrong idea.

Not to say that their trip to the well hadn't been fun. She'd enjoyed herself a surprising amount when August  _wasn't_ being all enigmatic.

"I had guessed you would refuse to let him be a gentleman and take you home." August had only just driven away when she heard Jones' voice, and she turned to see him leaning against the wall of the diner. "I was hoping we could talk."

Emma gaped at him, taking a few steps backwards, away from him. He noticed, a bitter smile spreading across his face.

"It didn't mean anything." She stammered, saying the first words that came to mind. He raised his eyebrows disbelievingly, pushing away from the wall and taking a few small steps closer to her. "It meant nothing."

"If it didn't mean anything, then why are we like  _this_?" he asked, and Emma swallowed when she realised that he'd taken her words to be about their kiss, and not her trip with August. She had  _meant_ the trip with August. "Why have we changed?"

Emma pressed her lips together and clenched her fists, because she had  _not_ expected Jones to bring it up, hadn't expected him to try and fight to keep the relationship they had shared.

She exhaled loudly, and although part of her, a very  _loud_ part of her, wanted to run away, the more curious part of her really wanted to stay and see what was going to happen. "I don't know what to say." she said, her voice steadier than it had been before. "What did you expect?"

He canted his head to the side, his tongue running slowly across his lips and catching Emma's attention, her eyes following the movement. "I suppose I must have misread what I thought we shared."

Lacey's words filled her mind before she could agree, her own thoughts on giving people false hope also playing through her brain. As much as it scared Emma, she didn't  _want_ to take his hope away. He had seemed able to read her better than anyone she'd ever met and she didn't want him to let think otherwise, because she didn't want him to stop doing that.

It was nice to have someone understand without having to speak of the past.

"You didn't." Emma breathed and his expression softened, the perception in his eyes familiar and endearing. His smile was small, but so warm and unexpected that Emma was unable to prevent herself from taking the few steps that would bring him within arms reach. "You didn't misread anything. I just-"

She faltered, as she had no idea what she was going to say, of what she even  _wanted_ to say. He still wasn't worth the risk, she'd convinced herself years previously that no one was.

Emma sighed loudly, wishing that everything was  _easier_ , that she hadn't somehow found herself in this position with no idea if she even wanted to escape it.

Before Storybrooke, before Henry, she'd run away from everyone who she might care for, because caring hurt too much. But she'd stayed for Henry, and doing that had allowed others to get closer, allowed Jones to somehow become  _important_  to her, and it was so new and frightening that she couldn't think of what to do.

"I didn't?" Jones asked suddenly, and although his voice was quiet, Emma could identify the hope that was lacing through his words.

Emma didn't know how to tell him that whatever she felt for him couldn't be enough for her to let him in, and she was bound to not be enough for him.

But that thought only spurred her to take another step closer, because once she told him the truth, once she told him what she couldn't do, he was bound to walk away. And as much as it would hurt her, a tiny piece of her needed to remember his kiss.

Jones inhaled sharply when she reached out, her hand grazing his arm, his shoulder, before settling gently against the column of his neck. And then she stretched up and pressed her mouth to his, Jones capturing her upper lip between his and sucking her closer, his own hand rising to cradle her cheek.

And despite their kiss being infinitely softer than it had been the day before, it still set her entire being on fire.

His other arm was warm around her waist, gently holding her to him, and she felt so completely  _treasured_ that it overwhelmed her, made her sink closer to him and just breathe him in for as long as she could.

She pulled away first. "I'm sorry." she muttered, dropping her hands to her side and clenching her fists so she wouldn't reach out and touch him again. "I just can't do this."

Jones gazed at her, a searching look that she almost couldn't meet, not until she forced herself to. Emma figured the least she could do was meet his eyes.

It really did feel like he was reading her, like he was staring at her and understanding her every hesitation. And then his hand shifted, moving from her cheek to gently brush a few strands of hair behind her ear just before he stepped away. "Perhaps one day, Swan."

She bowed her head, unsure whether or not to agree because she was pretty certain she'd already given him too much hope, possibly  _false_ hope. "You know when I said it didn't mean anything?" she muttered, and he raised a questioning eyebrow, and God, Emma was so bad at this, but it was hard when it sounded like someone actually cared. "I was talking about August. Not... well, you know."

His lips quirked into a small, sad smile and then he nodded and walked away. Again, like she had when he left the sheriff's department, she wanted to follow him except that had been intended as one last kiss before she forced herself to stay away and wait until she felt less.

~~~*~~~

She'd found the fairy tale book floating in a puddle just beside her car when she left the Sheriff station the following afternoon. The red box had just been floating there, hidden underneath a few fallen leaves, and despite the lock being broken, it had been in perfect condition.

Emma had spent the rest of the day just waiting to go and meet Henry and see the look on his face when she gave him the book.

With the book hidden in a large leather bag, she wandered over to Henry, the young boy sat on the chair just outside the school, the same one they had been sitting at the day before. He was distracted with a handheld game, and Emma decided to surprise him instead of calling out to him.

She slid into the seat beside him, peering over his shoulder to see the antiquated game on the small screen, a game she recognised from a few stolen hours at arcades when she was much, much younger. "I love that game." she said, grinning at Henry when he jumped and glanced over his shoulder to see her, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Space Paranoids, right?"

"Yeah," Henry told her, still focused on his game. "My mom got it for me. Because my book is missing."

Emma didn't bother hiding her excited smile, because Henry wasn't looking at her anyway. "I used to play that all the time when I was a kid." she told him, nudging her shoulder into his and shrugging innocently when he turned to glare at her, missing a few of the tanks and gun turrets. "Relax. It's all in the wrists."

He sighed, pausing the game and turning to her with a disappointed frown. "My mom's picking me up in, like, five minutes."

"Alright. I'll be quick, then." She said, because as much as she wished her time with him could be longer, she didn't care so much when she knew she was going to make him so happy. "I just have something I'd like to give you."

She pulled the book carefully out of the satchel and held it out towards him, Henry not noticing at first because he was packing his game into his backpack. She knew the instant he caught sight of the book, because he stiffened for a second and then grabbed it, his mouth open and his eyes filled with excitement. "You found it!" he crowed, his stare locked on the embossed cover. "Where'd you get it?"

He looked so happy, and Emma felt warmth flood through her when she realised that it was because of her, that she'd done something  _right_.

"I found it in a gutter." Emma explained and Henry hummed pensively. "It must have fallen off the dump truck on the way to the junkyard and got tossed around in the rain. And, somehow, it made its way back to me."

"Wow." Henry breathed, running his fingers along the title. "That's crazy."

"What other explanation could there be? Not that it matters. I suppose the most important thing is that, whatever happened, it came back to me. To us."

"Maybe," Henry said cautiously, and Emma turned to him with an expectant frown. "Maybe this means our luck is changing. Operation Cobra is back on. It's a sign. Things are going to be better."

Emma nodded, finding herself surprisingly enthusiastic at the prospect of continuing Operation Cobra. As ridiculous as the schemes were, if the Operation was back on, Henry would be back to searching her out and finding time for the two of them to try and break the curse.

"I hope you're right, kid."

Curse or not, Henry was the reason she was in Storybrooke, and she was going to take any opportunity to spend time with him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos/comments! And thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 15**

Mary-Margaret had been talking about something called Miner's Day for what felt like weeks, although Emma knew that in reality it had been closer to only a couple of days. After Valentine's Day, the teacher had become obsessed with asking people to volunteer to help at the festival, although Emma had refused. Henry had told her that Regina was busy on festival day, that she would be working until five and Emma had managed to convince the mayor, after a series of painful phone calls, to let her take Henry to the festival that day.

Emma still wasn't entirely sure what Miner's Day involved, but she was looking forward to whatever it was if it meant a day with Henry.

And so she'd picked up Henry from his home just after half nine and they'd made their way to the group of small marquees and vendors. They stopped off at Mary-Margaret's stall first, and although Emma had expected to see David assisting, she was surprised to see Leroy there too.

"How are things going?" she asked, handing over a few dollars to purchase a candle for herself and for Henry, which he decided to give to his mom as a gift. Emma wondered if Regina would be more receptive to Emma and Henry spending time together if Henry returned with gifts and proof that, even with Emma, he was also thinking of her. "That looks like a  _lot_ of candles to sell."

"We're going to sell them all." Leroy answered before Mary-Margaret had the chance, a determined scowl on his face. "You sure you don't want to buy more than that?"

"Sorry, Leroy." Emma answered apologetically, turning towards Mary-Margaret and David. "But really, how are things going?"

"Well," Mary-Margaret sighed, nervously rearranging the candle display. "The convent needs to sell as many candles before their rent is due, and they ordered more than expected so they have less funds than usual and this stall just isn't that successful this year."

"And I keep telling you that Killian will let the rent slide for a month or just take what they have if they don't have enough." David reminded the teacher with a soft smile, Emma's smile tightening at the mention of Jones.

"I'll buy another candle." Henry piped up, handing over a crumpled dollar note to David. Leroy frowned at Henry, but it looked friendlier than usual, and Henry cradled the object in his hand briefly before handing it to Emma. "You can have it. Maybe you can keep it in the Sheriff station or something for when the lights go out again."

"Thanks, kid." She said with a grateful smile, putting the third candle into the paper bag along with the other two. "Now, how about we leave these two to their business and see what other stuff they have around here?"

Henry nodded, waving a cheerful goodbye to the three people standing behind the stall and then following Emma around the festival. There were a lot of different craft stalls and Henry stopped at each and every one, and although the festival wasn't something Emma would usually enjoy, it was fun when Henry was darting from stall to stall and looking so excited, a wide grin on his face and a steadily growing selection of trinkets in a small bag.

The kid's favourite stalls were the games. Emma paid for the two of them to put forward suggestions for 'Guess the Number of Marbles in the Jar' and 'Guess the Name of the Teddy Bear', and they also spent more than long enough attempting to win decent sized prizes at the Hoopla and Hook-A-Duck stalls.

It was almost lunchtime when they gave up on achieving any success at capturing a duck, and Emma followed Henry towards the hot dog stand, halting for a moment when she saw Lacey, Dr Whale and Jones ordering food.

"Hello?" Henry said cheerily when he reached the small crowd, and Jones beamed down at the lad, glancing up to look at Emma and greeting her with a warm smile.

"Hello, lad." Jones replied. "Are you hungering for a hot dog as well?"

Henry nodded, Emma finally joining him beside the small group. "Hi." she murmured, and Jones smiled at her, his eyes softening just like always.

"Enjoying the fair, Emma?" Lacey asked, a hot dog in each hand. "It's better than last years by miles  _and_ I'm pretty sure I'm going to win the Teddy Bear contest. I called it Tolstoy."

"I guessed Bongo." Henry told Lacey with a shrug.

"It's fun." Emma said with a smile, looking pointedly down at Henry's bag of prizes. "Surprisingly exhausting."

"And that's why there's so many food vendors." Jones interjected, handing Emma a hot dog. She gaped at him, watching as he took another from the person manning the stall and gave it to Henry.

"I was going to buy-"

"My treat." Jones explained, reaching down to ruffle Henry's hair before he took his own hot dog from the salesman. "However, if you insist on paying me back, I won't protest. I'd understand."

Emma sent him a terse smile and then followed Lacey and Henry to one of the tables that had been set up, Dr Whale having wandered off when he caught sight of Ruby.

"Why did you guess Tolstoy?" Henry asked curiously when Lacey was mid-bite, the woman's gaze darting up to look at the young boy. "That's a strange name for a bear."

Lacey shrugged. "First name that came to mind. I've been rereading Anna Karenina." Lacey laughed quietly when she noticed Henry's confusion. "He's the author of that book. Why Bongo?"

Henry shrugged, his gaze brightening when he caught sight of something behind Emma, and she twisted around to see Jones finally joining them, four bottles of water tucked beneath his arm. Emma raised an eyebrow, because she hadn't expected him to decide to pay for their entire lunch.

Or any of their lunch, but it was too late for that now.

He sat next to Henry, putting down his hot dog and then passing out the drinks, sparing Emma only a brief smile. "How are you, lad? It's been a while since I saw you."

"Well, you haven't visited my mom." Henry stated, raising his eyebrows as though Jones should have known what he was going to say before he said it. "So you haven't visited me."

"Well, how about to make it up to you, we go and attempt that duck fishing game? I see Emma has a few of the small prizes, but I assure you I'll be able to win you one of the first place rewards." He suggested, watching as Henry scoffed down the entirety of his hot dog. "I'm rather adept with a hook."

Henry looked up at him suddenly, a contemplative expression on his face, but then he seemed to decide against whatever he was thinking about it. "Okay."

For a second, Emma was going to protest, but then Henry looked so excited to be spending time with Emma's so-called Prince Charles that she just nodded her permission to Jones. Jones' eyebrows furrowed, looking from Henry to Emma. "Do you mind if I have a word with Swan first?" he asked Henry, even though he was looking at Emma.

Emma swallowed nervously, wondering what exactly Jones wanted to talk to her about. But Henry just shook his head, and Jones grinned at him and then tilted his head towards a quiet clearing just a few yards away.

She sighed, and then stood up and followed him, glancing over her shoulder to see that Lacey was hesitantly engaging Henry in conversation, and Henry was eagerly replying. She watched for a moment, because the more Henry chatted and smiled, the more relaxed Lacey appeared.

Henry was the friendliest person she knew, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have him in her life.

"What do you want?" Emma asked, when she finally turned to face him, surprised to see a familiar earnestness in his gaze and his feet shuffling anxiously. "You alright?"

"I wasn't sure if I made myself clear last night." He murmured, leaning slightly towards her and Emma's eyelashes fluttered, taking in a deep breath and fixing her stare on him. "As much as I'd like to explore what there is between us, I understand if you need time. I simply wanted to vow that, no matter the time, my affections towards you will not fade."

"What if you have to wait forever?" She breathed, because he had to know what he was getting into. She wasn't sure how he  _didn't_ already know. "What if I don't feel the same way?"

He canted his head and raised an eyebrow in doubt, and she had to admit she couldn't blame him for doubting her words. She  _knew_ the question was ridiculous, because she'd given him enough reason to believe that she felt something for him. And she knew she  _did_ , because Emma had long since passed the point of lying to herself about how she felt.

"Look, don't take my feelings as an obligation to be with me." Jones continued, taking another small step forwards, and Emma couldn't look at him, could only gaze down at her feet and try to appear less breathless than she felt. "Just know that should you want me, I will always choose you."

She clenched her fists, refusing to step closer even though she wanted to, even though part of her wanted to admit that she  _did_ want him, and tell him that the thought of someone choosing her meant  _so_  much to her. Except she still couldn't handle the idea of letting someone know her the way she imagined Jones wanted to.

And then her phone rang. "It  _is_ time I need." she said suddenly, because she needed to end the conversation, ignoring the ringing in order to say just a few more words. "I don't know how long."

Jones nodded, his smile muted yet delighted, and then Emma grabbed her phone from her pocket, frowning when she saw the Sheriff station written across the screen. "Hello? This is Sheriff Swan. How may I help you?"

"Sheriff?" It was an unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line, but Emma was just intrigued by the fact that she was getting a call. "My name is Jim Ritter and I wanted to report a missing person."

"Alright." Emma said, pressing her lips together when she noticed Jones was still standing near her, concern on his face. "Meet me at the station in ten and tell me everything."

"Duty calls, Swan?" Jones asked once she hung up, but Emma wasn't listening. Instead she was looking at Henry, the boy still energetically talking to Lacey. She had been looking forward to their day together, but it seemed the world had other plans.

And Mary-Margaret and David were busy selling candles, Regina was working and she didn't want to take him back to his home when he was enjoying the festival so much.

"Jones?" Emma asked hesitantly, and Jones already seemed to know what she was going to ask, but he let her speak anyway. "Can you look after Henry? I'd understand if you can't, but-"

"That's fine, love." Jones told her with a nod, looking at Henry and smiling fondly. "I have already promised to win him a few things after all. I'm sure the two of us will have a great time."

"The two of you? What about Lacey?" she reminded him, seeing the way Lacey was now enthusiastically replying to Henry about whatever it was Henry was talking about. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"He's in good hands, Swan." Jones insisted. "Well, you know what I mean."

Emma smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. "I have full confidence that you can do everything just as well with one hand as most people can with two." she reassured, because despite his jest, Emma had noticed the stilted way he shifted so his prosthetic was hidden slightly behind his back. And she wasn't entirely sure how she  _hadn't_ expected her comment to be met with a rakish grin and a raised eyebrow. "Look, I just have to tell Henry where I'm going and I'm already running behind. Should have said fifteen minutes, right?"

~~~*~~~

A man was already standing outside the Sheriff station when Emma arrived, slightly flustered from hurrying there. "Jim, right?" Emma asked, the unfamiliar man nodding in confirmation. "Sorry if you had to wait long."

"I looked on Google and apparently the first day or two are the most important when it comes to finding a missing person." Jim told her, standing aside for Emma to unlock the station and then following her inside. "So if I report it now, you'll be able to find her, right?"

"I'll do my best." Emma promised, gesturing towards the seat on the other side of her desk and then digging a notebook out from her drawer as he got comfortable. "Before I was Sheriff, finding people was my job, so my best is pretty good." Jim swallowed, looking unreassured by her comment and Emma sent him what she hoped was a consoling smile. "Okay, so who's missing?"

"Kathryn Nolan." Jim told her, and Emma looked up in surprise. David had seen Kathryn only yesterday, so she wasn't expecting her to be the one missing. "I'm her boyfriend. She was going to come and stay with me yesterday and then drive into Boston this morning to look for apartments."

"Boston?" Emma repeated, jotting down everything Jim had said. "Why Boston? Do you think that maybe she just went earlier?"

"She's gotten into Law School there. Registration was today, but when she didn't show up at my house last night and didn't call or even answer her phone, I thought maybe something was up." Jim explained. "I passed by her house on my way to the festival this morning, but when I saw her car was still in the drive, I knocked and she didn't answer."

"Okay. Well, I'll call up the law school and see if she made registration. Do you know what else she was doing yesterday?" she asked, searching through the filing cabinets behind her for a missing persons form and then sliding it across the desk towards Jim. "Fill this in as best you can, please."

"I know she was meeting with David Nolan before she was going to come and see me." Jim stated. "But I didn't hear from her after the time she was supposed to meet him. I just… I need to know she's alright. Kathryn's not usually unavailable like this, not unless she's working with Mr Spencer but I know she took yesterday and today  _and_ tomorrow off to go into Boston."

"Okay. I know David did see her yesterday, so I'll go and talk to him again and see if he knows anything." Emma promised, watching Jim attempt to write as much of Kathryn's personal information on the form. "And I'll check her phone records, see if she contacted anyone between then and now."

Jim nodded, sending Emma a tight, grateful smile. "I'm going to visit other places Kathryn is often at. I guess I'll call you if I get more information?"

"And I'll do the same for you." Emma promised. "Now I'll just file the report and make those calls I mentioned, and then I'll start asking around. Unfortunately, Jim, I can't promise anything but I will do my best to make sure that you know what has happened to her."

Jim scowled at Emma slightly, and for a moment, Emma wished she could promise that she  _would_ find Kathryn, but after she had nearly broken her promises to Ava and Nicolas, she knew she couldn't make a similar vow.

~~~*~~~

Emma had to hope that Kathryn would be found before her phone records were retrieved, as it turned out it would take a couple of days before Emma had access to them. She had taken the squad car out of central Storybrooke to visit Kathryn's home, and just as Jim had said, the car was still in the driveway.

Yet Kathryn was definitely not at home. And Emma had been told by the law school that Kathryn Nolan had not shown up for registration.

She needed to talk to David, because he was the last person that she knew had seen Kathryn, and luckily, she knew where he was.

Or at least, where he was meant to be. The candle stall that he'd been manning with Mary-Margaret and Leroy was deserted, the boxes of candles packed away and gone. Emma cursed, because knowing David, he could be anywhere and, most likely, lost. She sent him a text, telling him to get back to the town hall immediately because she needed to talk to him.

She almost immediately got a reply, a rambling response about becoming some sort of travelling candle salesman and Mary-Margaret deciding to help Leroy obtain the love of nun - and Emma wasn't entirely certain if that was a typo or not - but all Emma could do was send him another, far more insistent text telling him to come back.

Emma figured that adding 'sheriff business' to the end of the text was more likely to get him back without another long-winded text.

She glanced around, stopping when she saw Jones and Henry sat on one of the benches, Jones talking enthusiastically, a large toy parrot - which Emma recognised as first prize from the Hook-a-Duck stall - tucked under his arm. Henry was eating cotton candy, his attention firmly on Jones.

It was probably a good idea for her to tell the two of them that it seemed unlikely she'd be free before Henry had to get home.

"Hey, guys." She drew their attention, Jones faltering mid-word and turning to look at her. "How are things going?"

"Great. Although Lacey had to leave because she was tired." Henry said eagerly. "Killian was telling me about his ship and how to sail it. I didn't even know it actually sailed until he told me." Jones scoffed at Henry's words, clearly offended by the idea that he was living on a decorative ship. "And then he said he'd teach me how to be a pirate, and I told him I couldn't be a proper pirate without a parrot, which he didn't understand, but he won me the parrot anyway."

"I've never met a pirate with a parrot." Jones said exasperatedly, clearly something he had said more than once since she left the two boys together. "And I've told you that I'm pretty well-versed in piracy."

"You're interested in nautical stuff and you sleep on a ship. I've told  _you_ that that doesn't make you a pirate." Emma teased, and Jones rolled his eyes, a short, deep chuckle escaping him. "And besides, I don't know how happy Regina would be if Henry became a buccaneer."

"Pirates don't care what their moms think." Henry said decisively, Jones' laugh deepening. The kid smiled cheekily up at her, holding the cotton candy out towards her as though it was a peace offering.

Emma took a small amount of the offered sugar, twisting around to look back at the entrance to the festival to see if David had arrived yet. "At least it looks like the two of you are having a good time"

"We'd have a better time with you." Jones told her with a wink, taking Emma aback. "There's another parrot I could win for you, seeing as that's apparently the mark of a true pirate. Despite Henry being my first mate, I will need a crew larger than the two of us if we plan to plunder the seas together. You could be our master bosun, or just maybe my cabin girl if you'd prefer."

"I don't think I have time to be whatever a bosun is." Emma said, ignoring the suggestive tone that had seeped into his voice at the end of the sentence. "I'm actually here to talk to David. It looks like things are a bit more complex than I'd hoped."

"You can't join us?" Henry protested, disappointment clear on his face. "Really?"

Emma frowned, kneeling down to put herself at the same level as Henry, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid." She smiled apologetically. "Being the Sheriff means sometimes there are things I have to deal with even when I'd much rather be with you. And Jones? You don't mind taking him back to Regina's for five, do you? I mean, I'll call if I can make it before then but-"

"It's fine with me." Jones agreed, tilting his head to send an excited grin towards Henry. "Are you sure  _you're_  alright with this, love?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't." She insisted, checking once again for David and stiffening when she saw him at the entrance. She wasn't sure how to tell him that Kathryn was missing, and she was hardly looking forward to sharing that news. "Look, I have to go. Have fun. I know I won't."

She patted Henry slightly awkwardly on the shoulder in farewell and then turned around to make her way towards David.

"You said sheriff business?" David asked when he noticed her approach, his hands in his pockets and his flat cap slightly offset. "How can I help with sheriff business?"

"Well, it's not good, David." Emma murmured, taking him by the arm and leading him somewhere quieter than the festival grounds. David looked completely thrown, confusion creasing his forehead. "I got a report of a missing person today. It's Kathryn."

"Kathryn?" David stammered, his eyes widening. " _My_ Kathryn? I mean, well, the Kathryn I know?"

"Yeah." She said bluntly. "Her boyfriend, Jim? He reported it. Apparently she never showed up to their date last night and the law school she got into, well, she didn't turn up to registration today. It sounds like you were the last person to see her."

"She didn't go to Boston?" David asked, looking even more bewildered than before. "She couldn't stop talking about registering for law school and finally getting her own law degree so she can stop being a secretary for Mr Spencer and actually be a lawyer or something. She wouldn't miss that."

"I've heard." Emma said solemnly. "I need to know if she said or you saw  _anything_ that might be suspicious. Do you know if anyone spoke to her after she met with you? Or if she was planning on doing something before meeting Jim?"

"She didn't say anything." David said. "I mean, I don't remember anything that seemed strange. I mean, she talked to some man after she left. It didn't look like anything. I mean, I figured she'd walked into him or something. Do you think maybe  _he_ …?"

"I don't know. Can you describe him? It would be nice to talk to him." David shook his head apologetically and Emma groaned. "Well, when did  _you_ last talk to Kathryn? When you had coffee? Or afterwards?"

"When we had coffee. I already told you everything." David insisted, his eyes narrowing and his jaw tensed. "Am  _I_ a suspect or something?"

"No. I just had to make sure. I know you're telling the truth, David. But I need to find her, so if you think of anything more, especially about the man you saw her talk to, give me a call, alright?"

"I'll try and remember everything I can." David promised, his hands buried even further in his pockets. "In fact, I'll try and remember by this evening. Is Jim searching? I might help."

Emma nodded, watching with a sad smile as David slumped away, already on his phone and talking to someone. That had been less painful than she expected, but she wasn't entirely sure that the news had sunk in.

Kathryn was important to David, his only link to the life he couldn't remember, and even though they were close to a divorce, they were friends. Emma was certain he'd be far more distraught when everything registered.

God, Emma hoped she found Kathryn. She'd found bail jumpers in Boston, so surely she could manage to hunt down Kathryn in a town as small as Storybrooke.

"Sounds like there's something happening at the sheriff station." Emma turned when she heard the greasy voice, rolling her eyes when she saw Sidney hovering nearby with a smug smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Interested in an interview?"

"No." Emma hissed. "If I'm going to do an interview it will be on my terms and on my time."

Sidney opened his mouth to protest, but Emma stormed away. She had more important things to do than talk to Sidney, things like calling her old contacts in Boston and speeding up the transfer of the phone records as well as obtaining security footage from the coffee shop in the hope she'd see any record of the mysterious man David had spoken of.

She definitely had no time for the Storybrooke Mirror.

~~~*~~~

It had been a whole afternoon and Emma had officially found nothing. A few calls to Boston and she'd managed to get Kathryn Nolan's phone records, but she hadn't called anyone since before her meeting with David. She had even dug into her old bail bondsperson tricks and called to put a trace on the woman's credit card, but Emma wasn't sure that would be much help.

And the coffee shop had no security cameras, and neither did any of the shops around it, so that had been a  _lot_ of help.

It looked like David and his mystery man might be the only people who would be of any help.

"You really can't remember?" She asked when she heard the sound of the station doors opening, assuming it was David. "Because you're the only one who might be able to tell me  _anything_."

"I've been thinking more since you told me what happened." David said quietly, exhaustion clear in the lines on his face. "I helped Jim search Storybrooke but got nothing. I figured I'd try to describe the man more, but I don't know how much help it'll be."

"More helpful than no description at all." Emma said, passing David a yellow notepad and a pen. "Write down as much as you can."

David nodded, chewing the end of the pen as he stared thoughtfully down at the empty page, occasionally scribbling a word or two down. Emma tried to read it from across the desk, although the sentence 'shady man in a stupid coat' wasn't particularly helpful and definitely didn't ring any bells.

It was silent as the two of them worked, David writing a few more descriptive words as Emma wrote down everything she'd found so far, as well as running the numbers Kathryn had called that she didn't recognise.

She identified the numbers of Jim, David and the Storybrooke District Attorney Albert Spencer, Kathryn's boss, and Kathryn had even made a few calls to Regina in the days before she went missing.

But Regina and Kathryn were friends, so that wasn't strange.

"That's everything I remember." David announced, scowling down at the few lines he had written. "A man with dark hair, not much taller than Kathryn, long coat and pretty smartly dressed. Now I think about it, he's not someone I've seen in town before."

"He doesn't really sound familiar." Emma said with a sigh. "Do you think if I found a sketch artist, you'd be able to describe him in a bit more detail?"

"I saw him from far away." David looked apologetic, but he was still being more helpful than anyone else had. "I could try though. Does Storybrooke even have a sketch artist?"

"I'll find one." Emma mumbled, wishing she hadn't assumed that a missing person's case in Storybrooke would be  _easier_ than one back in Boston. At least in Boston, there were sketch artists and security cameras. Storybrooke had none of that. It might be smaller, but it was hard to track anyone down when she couldn't find any trace of them. "We might not have an official one here, but surely someone in Storybrooke can draw."

David nodded, still scowling down at the short description. "I wish I could help more."

"You've helped." Emma took the notepad back, rereading the description a few times just in case it reminded her of anyone. "Now how are you?"

"Well I could be better." David mumbled, his hand running through his hair. "People are refusing to buy anything from Leroy, so of course that has made Mary-Margaret even more determined to sell all the candles  _with_ him. And then I find out that Kathryn is missing? It's not been a great day."

"Doesn't sound like it."

~~~*~~~

The rest of the evening had gone as well as the rest of the day. David had gone back to the festival after they'd had a brief chat over a cup of coffee, and then she decided to organise a meeting with the annoyingly smug Sidney. However, the reporter had seemed far more interested in over-dramatising the event than actually writing a short report to give the public information and ask for any knowledge of Kathryn's location.

And then there were a few dozen calls about the lights going out around the town hall. The festival had been almost over when the area blacked out, but that hadn't stopped Emma from receiving worried calls and urgent pleas for her to get down there.

It looked like after weeks of having barely anything to do other than paperwork and patrols, suddenly she was very busy. It was almost comforting to have a task as familiar as trying to find someone, which was something she'd been doing her entire life.

It was  _not_ so comforting to be searching for a ladder and investigating the smashed fuse box near the town hall.

By the time she returned back to the loft, she was exhausted. David greeted her when she arrived, the man dressed in his pyjamas and drinking a glass of whiskey, but when she told him that she had yet to find anything more on Kathryn's disappearance, he fell silent, downed his drink and then refilled his glass.

Despite her exhaustion, once she was in bed, it was impossible to sleep. She was thinking if there was anything she had forgotten to do, if after a few months of not searching for  _anyone_ she had forgotten what to do.

It was almost habitual when she picked her phone up from the bedside table, opening up her texts to see the messages she had exchanged with Jones over the past few months, ever since they had become closer following their first drunken kiss.

She hadn't realised how often they spoke, how often a message to him was the last thing she did in a day, although that had changed over the last couple of days. Emma hadn't even been aware of how regularly she told him about her day and how often he responded with a mention of some weird thing he'd found in his shop.

For a few moments, she debated messaging him. And yet, what if he took it to mean more?  _She_  didn't even know what she was doing with him. She'd told him she needed time and yet the next time she'd seen him, with a toy he'd won for her son and Henry talking enthusiastically to him, she'd been teasing and friendly and so  _disappointed_ when she couldn't spend the rest of the day with the two of them.

She was calling him before she even thought it through. When she realised what she was doing, she considered hanging up but he answered before she got the chance.

"Emma?" he asked, clearly unsure why she was calling. "Is something wrong? You don't usually call this late."

Emma bit her lip, not knowing what to say when she didn't really know why she had called except that now she noticed how often she had talked to him  _before_ she kissed him, she found she missed it.

Well, she knew she wasn't going to say  _that_. "I just wanted to check Henry got home safe."

"And you're checking now?" Killian asked, and she could hear his amusement through the phone. "If I hadn't returned him home by this time, I fear Regina would have already had me killed."

Emma winced, because asking about Henry at this hour was pretty ridiculous. If he hadn't returned home, Regina would have called and she would be out searching. "Well, I've been busy."

"Is everything alright, Swan?"

"Well, no." She answered after a moment, unsure if she really  _should_ be talking to him about her day when she was still so undecided how much time she needed and how close she was willing to be to him before she knew. "But I can't really talk about an open case."

"Ah," Killian murmured. "More complex than you'd hoped?"

"More like different." Emma stated. "I know what I should be doing, but some of it's harder than I expected in a place as backward as Storybrooke. There's not even anywhere I can start looking for information because I really have nothing to go on."

"I have faith in you." He said quietly, and Emma's grip on the phone tightened because those words were so unfamiliar. "You know how grateful I am for everything you did for me. I have no doubt you'll be able to do the same now."

Emma swallowed, remembering exactly what had happened the last time he mentioned how grateful he was about the two cases he'd been involved in.

Absently, she considered that if she  _did_ give in and open herself up to the vulnerability that came with being with someone, with  _him_ , at least she'd get to kiss him again.

"Emma?" She shook herself back to attention when she heard Killian's voice, exhaling loudly when she realised she'd said nothing, had distracted herself with the memory of his lips on hers, of the way want had coursed through her when his arms surrounded her. "You alright, love?"

"Yeah." she breathed. "You really think I can do it?"

"I do." There was another pause, Emma gripping the phone tighter and burrowing deeper under the covers of her bed. "Anything else, Swan?"

Emma paused. It was late and she really shouldn't be spending the last hour before she went to sleep on the phone to Killian, but she didn't particularly want to hang up yet. "You had a good time with Henry?"

"Aye." Killian said softly. "He's a good kid. He likes to talk about you. And Operation Cobra."

"He talked about that? Did he explain that Prince thing to you?" She asked, her voice thick with amusement, and worry that Henry had said more than which fairy tale character he was. "You didn't tell him he was crazy, right?"

"By the Prince thing, do you mean the theory that you and I are meant to be?" Jones questioned. "Because, darling, as far as theories go, I have to admit that I'm rather fond of that one."

"So he did tell you everything." She stated, determinedly ignoring the latter comment. "Ridiculous, right?"

"I believe Henry is far smarter than you're giving him credit for." Killian said, and Emma knew that if he were there with her, he'd shrugging.

Except if he were there with her, he'd be in her bed and that was something she refused to let herself think about. "You just like the idea that I'm your princess."

"Well, the Charles and Leia idea isn't as convincing as the rest of his argument." Killian said, and apparently they were really having a serious discussion about Operation Cobra. "It doesn't make sense for you to be present at Prince Charming's engagement celebration if you weren't yet born."

"Try telling Henry that."

"Oh, but I don't want to deny the theory." Killian chuckled, the sound warm and comforting even over the phone line. "You were right, I do like the idea of you being my princess. A happy ending involving you sounds rather wonderful."

Emma gaped at the phone, because she didn't understand where he'd got the idea that she could be anyone's happy ending. "It's a story. Don't get your hopes up because of some illustration." she snapped, because everything in that moment was too much.

Only hours ago, she'd told him she needed time.

"I have to go." she said quietly, hearing his loud sigh through the phone. "I should sleep."

There was silence, and for a few minutes Emma wondered if he thought she had hung up, but then he sighed again and spoke up, his voice low and uncertain. "I apologise if I said too much." Emma swallowed, because every time he spoke to her with such sincerity, she never knew how to respond. "You wanted time and I told you I understood. I  _do_ understand."

"The time that I need," she answered carefully, and she really  _was_ getting tired now, and she supposed it was that that made her less wary about what she was saying. "It's not time to figure out what I want. I know what I want. I just don't know what I can let myself have."

Killian exhaled shakily. "Why did you call, Emma?"

She swallowed, realising the truth of why she'd called and biting her lip nervously. "I wanted to talk to you before I went to sleep."

Again, Killian let out an unsteady breath. "Emma,  _why_ can't you let yourself have this?"

Emma pressed her lips together, turning to rest her cheek against the pillow and willing herself not to dwell on just what had made her so reluctant to take a risk and be with him. "Everyone leaves, Killian. I've learnt that the closer I get, the more it hurts when it happens. I know what I want, what we both want, but I can't have that until I know you won't leave. And I don't know how much time it will take me to see that.  _If_ I'll see that."

She hung up, cradling the phone close to her chest but refusing to answer when he called back, the phone vibrating furiously in her hand. She couldn't answer, she  _couldn't_ hear his response to her, because people always said they wouldn't leave, but she knew that those promises were  _never_ kept.

Why should Killian be any different?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos/comments/bookmarks! I hope you enjoy the chapter - and thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me.

**Chapter 16**

Emma had had a really dismal Sunday. Not only had Regina called early in the morning to inform her that, seeing as all of her attention should be on the Kathryn Nolan case, the half hour that Regina had graciously allowed her to spend with Henry would be better spent working, but she had spent hours calling up everyone Kathryn had contacted in the two days before her disappearance.

Everyone she called had been unhelpful and irritable. The District Attorney Albert Spencer had been brisk and angry, seeming to blame  _her_ for Kathryn going missing before ranting on about how he thought Emma was mishandling the sheriff's department. Regina had insisted Emma was wasting her time questioning her about anything, because she had nothing to do with Kathryn's disappearance and when Emma had continued, Regina had hung up.

Kathryn's neighbours hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, but at least they'd been more cooperative.

And Dr Whale had managed to combine helpfulness with lechery as he told her over the phone that Kathryn was definitely not a patient in the hospital. Emma had hung up on him when he decided that apparently Emma had the time to answer a question about what she was wearing.

Emma  _hated_ how much she was struggling to find anything. Back in Boston, with social networks and up-to-date technology and security cameras, she'd been good at finding people. Aside from a few failures, and those searches had been personal, not business, she'd found almost everyone she'd set out to find. Here, in Storybrooke, she felt useless, like she was  _missing_ something and she didn't know what it was.

And the sheriff department wasn't required to make missing posters, but she didn't like feeling so useless so she'd taken one of the photos Keith had given her, thrown together a quick poster and then made as many photocopies as she could in an hour.

She definitely  _wasn't_  busying herself over her lunch break so she wouldn't run into Killian Jones at Granny's or on the street. Wrapped up in her blanket, talking to him, had somehow made her open up more than she had ever expected and she had admitted to him exactly why she feared letting him in.

But despite that, she  _wasn't_  avoiding him. Not at all.

She finally stopped working, although she wasn't at all sure how productive she'd been, when the streetlights lit up and she got a text from Mary-Margaret saying she and David would be walking by the station on their way back home.

Emma smiled weakly when David showed her a full bag from one of the many Fish and Chip shops, although he looked as tired and drawn as Emma imagined she did. "After a day of searching, I didn't really want to cook." he explained as Emma fell into step alongside them. "You find anything? Because I didn't."

"Nothing." she admitted and David said loudly. "It doesn't seem like anyone has."

"You know if you need any help sorting things out at the station, I'm happy to help, right?" David reminded her, having mentioned the same thing over breakfast that morning. "I only work part-time at the shelter so I do have the time."

Emma sent him another tense smile, her gaze glancing down to see the way his hand tightened around Mary-Margaret's, and she knew Mary-Margaret was sending him a comforting smile, and for the briefest moment, she wondered what it would be like to have someone like that herself.

"I'll check the budget." She promised, running her hand across her face. "But right now, can we not talk about Kathryn? Not unless you actually know anything new."

David nodded in agreement, turning to Mary-Margaret and clearly looking to her for the new topic of conversation. The teacher looked flustered for a moment, and then she clearly tried to quell an excited smile, her expression familiar enough to Emma to know that Mary-Margaret had heard some gossip that she was actually interested in discussing, so Emma raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing. I shouldn't talk about it." Mary-Margaret said with a shake of her head, and Emma and David shared an exasperated, fond smile. She didn't gossip often, but when she did, Mary-Margaret always hesitated before speaking. "But, fine. When David was in the fish and chip shop, I may have overheard Leroy telling Sean Herman that apparently Lacey is pregnant."

"How did he know?" Emma asked, because only a week ago, Lacey had been insisting that she didn't want people to find out through a rumour, and now, clearly someone had spread one.

"Apparently everyone knows." Mary-Margaret explained lightly and Emma frowned over at her. "And it seems like everyone is talking about it."

Emma grimaced, remembering the way people had talked back in Phoenix, and she wondered if Lacey knew that her condition was now public knowledge. "And what?  _Judging_ her?"

Mary-Margaret shrugged, guilt written across her face, but before she could say anything, another voice interrupted. "Are you guys talking about Lacey?"

Emma sighed loudly, looking up to see Ruby leaning against the bus stop, looking at them over Dr Whale's shoulder. "No. We're not." Emma told her firmly.

"Don't worry. Lacey's a friend." Ruby stated, nudging Whale away from her and crossing the sidewalk. "If you  _were_ talking about Lacey, I'd be obligated to shut you guys up. Whoever spread that rumour has no idea what they're talking about."

Emma closed her eyes and shook her head, because that was confirmation that whoever it was that had announced Lacey's pregnancy definitely wasn't Lacey. Whale looked sheepish, but she figured that was simply because he knew the truth, not because he'd spread the rumour.

The doctor may have been a lech, but Emma doubted he'd break the rules on confidentiality purely for gossip.

"It would be far more helpful if people would talk about Kathryn and maybe help us  _find_ her than discussing whether or not a woman is pregnant." David grumbled, and Emma had to agree with him.

"Are you coming home with me or not?" Whale asked suddenly, clearly bored of the discussion and turning a suggestive grin towards Ruby. "Because if you're not, then why am I here?"

Ruby rolled her eyes, but Emma and David were sending the doctor a disbelieving look. Mary-Margaret simply looked disgusted and Emma was reminded of the date that the teacher and the doctor had shared all those months before.

"No. I'm not." Ruby told him. "I'm not drunk enough today. Maybe next time we're both at the Rabbit Hole." Whale rolled his eyes and then wandered off without another word. "He's such a jerk, right? But the day I can't handle a guy like him is the day I leave town."

Ruby paused, glancing down and Emma followed her gaze to see that she had a small suitcase with her. "Is that today?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah. I had a fight with Granny." Ruby admitted, staring up at the bus times as though desperate for something to arrive and take her far from Storybrooke. "Quit my job."

"Yeah, I don't think buses out of town really happen." Emma pointed out, because as far as she had been in Storybrooke, the only bus she had seen was the bright yellow school bus. "And you might want a destination first."

"I suppose." Ruby admitted with a bored shrug, pouting as she glanced up once more at the timetable. "I'm not entirely sure where to go in Storybrooke though. At least somewhere else will be more exciting."

"Well, if you need somewhere to stay, you can always come back with us for the night." Mary-Margaret suggested, and Emma and David turned matching incredulous stares towards her.

The loft was barely big enough for the three of them, and Emma imagined that it might be difficult to find a place for Ruby to lie down for the night. Then again, she doubted that a lack of room would be enough to stop Mary-Margaret's hospitality.

"If you're sure?" Ruby questioned, glancing between the three of them, and Mary-Margaret nodded insistently, leaving David's side to loop her arm around Ruby and start to lead her to the flat.

After they had returned home and shared the fish and chips - three portions was more than enough for four people - and then made Ruby comfortable on the couch, Emma went upstairs and curled up in bed.

And it had to be just a habit, something she'd remembered again after all the messages she had seen the night before, and nothing to do with the twinge of longing she'd felt when she saw the way David and Mary-Margaret were there for one another, but the last thing she did before falling asleep was message Killian.

**My day was crap. Hope you've had a better one. x**

She tossed and turned for almost an hour, unable to sleep with her mind full of different ideas of what could have happened to Kathryn and useless ideas of what she could do to find her, and it was only when she was eventually starting to drift off that her phone vibrated with a response from Killian.

He usually replied more quickly and she wondered, just for a second, if he'd been intending to reply straight away but hadn't known what to say, not after the way they had left things the day before.

The way  _she_ had left things.

It was definitely a far more succinct message than usual, just a single sentence -  **I hope tomorrow's better**.

~~~*~~~

Ruby hadn't been able to accompany Mary-Margaret to work the next morning and so she had followed Emma to the sheriff station instead of sitting alone at the loft. Emma hadn't really known what to do with another person hanging around the station, especially one who wasn't being particularly helpful, because she was used to working alone.

But Ruby seemed satisfied to lounge on the sofa and read some strange magazine that Emma had never seen before, although from the looks of the gossip headlines, she wouldn't be surprised to find out that Sidney Glass was involved with its production.

And so, Emma busied herself with attending to a few people who had called in with actual information on Kathryn. At least it looked like David's morning plastering the town with missing posters had been worthwhile, but so far none of the information had been at all useful.

No one had been able to think of anyone that matched David's description of the last man he'd seen Kathryn with, and Emma was beginning to think that his description was just a bit too vague to identify  _anyone_.

Although, having read his report, Emma would admit that David didn't seem to know that many descriptive words, and a man with dark hair was hardly a rare sight.

It was long past lunchtime when she finally hurried back to the station, halting at the entrance and grinning when she heard Henry's voice, the boy clearly talking to Ruby. She checked her phone quickly to see the time, surprised that Henry was already out of school but glad that he'd come to visit.

"Why do the phone's keep doing that?" Emma heard Ruby ask, and Emma sighed when she heard the phone go off yet again. She'd never felt too busy as the Sheriff until a few days ago but recently, she'd felt far more aware of the irritating problems of the townspeople taking up her time when she had other things to do.

"All the non-emergency calls go to a machine when Emma's busy." Henry explained, and Emma tried to hide a smile as she hung up her jacket.

She'd thought her ramblings on her job must have been boring, even though Henry had asked about it, and she couldn't believe he'd actually listened and remembered the things she'd told him.

When she heard the phone ring again, she began to hurry into the room, but Ruby's voice halted her in place. "Sheriff's station." Ruby said, and Emma moved quietly into the room, not wanting to distract Ruby and gesturing for Henry to keep quiet. "Hey, Miss Ginger. Uh, no, that's not a prowler. That's Archie's dog, Pongo. If you throw him a vanilla wafer, he'll quiet down. Do you still want to talk to Emma? Great! Well, I'm glad I could help."

Henry grinned and glanced from Emma to Ruby, his eager smile clearly catching Ruby's attention and she turned to see what Henry was looking at, appearing embarrassed when she noticed Emma.

"What are you two up to?" Emma asked, crossing the room to perch on the edge of the desk next to Henry. "I didn't realise you were coming here today, Henry."

"Mom's busy until late so I said I'd be with you until my appointment with Archie." Henry explained. "She told me I wasn't allowed, but I like seeing you, I'd be at home by myself otherwise and if I get to my appointment, then it doesn't matter."

Emma grimaced slightly, unsurprised that Regina had forbidden Henry from visiting. "How about you, Ruby? I'm sorry I left you here all day."

"I'm great." Ruby sighed, and Emma raised an eyebrow, smiling when she felt Henry lean against her. "Except for the fact that I can't do anything."

"I'm sure that's not true." Emma told her, and she noticed Henry was nodding along with her. "I just saw you on the phone. That was good."

"That?" Ruby looked dubiously down at the phone and then shrugged. "That's nothing."

"No. No, it isn't." Emma insisted. Ruby rolled her eyes, clearly skeptical, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and looking awkwardly up at the ceiling. "Look, if you're interested, there's enough money in the budget if you want to help out."

"Really?" Ruby gaped at Emma, and then a wide, red smile spread across her face. "Yes! Thank you so much. I could do that, I could answer phones and I could help out. Is there anything else you need done? I'll organize files or clean up, anything that's useful."

"Well, I'm still swamped with the Kathryn Nolan thing, so maybe if you want to grab us lunch, I wouldn't say no to a grilled cheese." Emma suggested, her stomach rumbling as if on cue and causing Henry to burst into laughter.

Ruby smirked. "Done. Henry, do you want anything?"

"Um, two chocolate chip cookies, an apple pie and a hot dog." The kid stated, his laugh fading into wide pleading eyes and a begging smile. "Please?"

Ruby frowned, looking to Emma for confirmation and Emma shook her head, reaching out to ruffle Henry's hair. "I'm pretty sure he already ate at school, right, kid?" Henry nodded, meeting Emma's slightly disapproving and amused stare with a sheepish smile and a shrug. "But I think one cookie is alright."

"Okay, so a grilled cheese and a cookie." Ruby confirmed, and Emma nodded, returning Ruby's farewell wave cheerfully and then sliding off the desk to take the seat Ruby had just deserted.

"Thanks." Henry told her with a wide grin, and then she watched as he unzipped his backpack and dropped a pile of schoolbooks on the table. "I have homework."

"And you want my help?" Emma asked with a raised eyebrow, because that was something new. And something she wasn't sure she'd be particularly good at. "Or are you just doing it while I happen to be nearby?"

"I can do it by myself." Henry told her, flipping open a book full of maths and then digging a pencil out of his pocket. "But I do sometimes like to ask Mom to check it through, if she's home."

Emma swallowed, leaning up and peering over his arm to see the workbook balanced on Henry's knee, a slight frowning creasing her forehead when she saw the long wordy problems and a few instructions on translating them into equations. "I guess I can give it a look through. It's been a while since I've done math though."

Henry shrugged, already scratching out an answer. Emma watched for a moment, wishing for the first time that she'd done some math,  _any_ math, since she'd sat her GED in Tallahassee all those years earlier. Then again, fifth grade stuff couldn't be too tricky, even if she couldn't remember that much of it.

But Henry seemed fine for now, and it felt new and  _nice_ to be sitting next to her son as he worked, as they  _both_ worked. However, Henry was far more productive than Emma was, as she was becoming pretty certain that looking at David's description over and over again was unlikely to suddenly bring the man to mind.

"You know," Henry started suddenly, and Emma glanced up from the yellow notepad to look at him, watching Henry as he tapped his pencil against his work. "You could let Ruby do more. She's Little Red Riding Hood."

Emma hummed thoughtfully, remembering the version of Little Red Riding Hood she'd grown up with and wondering what Henry's book had done to the story. "With the little basket?" she asked doubtfully. "Yeah, Red Riding Hood seems like a badass."

Henry rolled his eyes and looked sternly at her. "You haven't read it?" he asked, and Emma shook her head apologetically. "Well, she  _is_. She just doesn't remember how cool she is or what she's capable of. But it's true."

Emma tilted her head and then reached over to open the drawer that Henry had decided to hide the book in, unlocking it and then turning to the early pages of the book to the pages featuring Red Riding Hood and Snow White, where the character of Red Riding Hood, who was far older than in the stories Emma knew, brought the fugitive Princess food. Where she fought alongside Charming and Prince Charles in an attempt to save Princess Leia.

She had to admit that she preferred the depictions of the fairy tale women to the way they were portrayed in the classic stories she knew.

"I got your grilled cheese, Emma." Ruby called out when she entered the station again, and Henry seemed to panic, snatching the book back from Emma and locking it back in the desk, his own work falling to the floor. "And a cookie for Henry  _and_ a hot chocolate with cinnamon courtesy of a Mr Jones."

"What?" Emma asked, kneeling down to pick up Henry's work and attempting to hide the slight blush that Ruby's words had triggered. "From Killian?"

"He was at Granny's." Ruby said with a shrug, as if that was a valid explanation.

Emma took the paper bag from Ruby, handing Henry the cookie from it and then she took the drink, running her finger along the rim fondly and wondering why Killian would have done such a thing. She hadn't even allowed herself to  _see_ him in the almost two days since their phone call, and their text conversation the previous night had been far more stilted than usual.

So a drink paid for by him and delivered by Ruby was the last thing she expected, and there was a strange fluttering in her stomach, a pleased, surprised feeling that he'd  _thought_ about her when she wasn't there, had  _known_ what she would want and had sent it to her.

Once she'd picked Henry's things up and given them back to him, she took a sip of the drink, savouring the taste of the drink for only a moment before her phone rang, and she grimaced at Ruby and Henry. "And that's the emergency line." she told them with a sigh.

Henry packed up his things as she answered, and her frown deepened when she heard the bartender of the Rabbit Hole and a loud commotion in the background. It sounded as though there was a fight, and the man wasn't sure he could stop it, his tone getting more urgent when he stated that someone had drawn blood.

Emma promised she'd be right there, sending Henry an apologetic smile and then turning a more urgent look towards Ruby. "So I have to go." she explained needlessly. "But what would be really useful would be if you could find someone who might be able to draw what someone might look like given a description. You know, a sketch artist?"

Ruby nodded hesitantly and then Emma gave Henry a quick hug in farewell, holding him to her side and nuzzling, just for the briefest moment, into his hair, a fond smile crossing her face when he nestled closer.

She let him go and walked away.

~~~*~~~

Emma hadn't even reached the bar when her phone rang again, and Emma could hardly believe there were two things requiring her immediate attention but she answered the phone anyway.

"Miss Swan." Regina's voice was stern even over the phone and Emma grimaced in annoyance. "I need a word."

"This number is for people who require my immediate attention." Emma pointed out angrily, wondering what Regina would attempt to do to her if she hung up before letting Regina speak. "If you  _don't_ , I'm busy right now."

"Are you saying that my friend's disappearance isn't important to you?" Regina snarled, and Emma halted just outside the bar, running her hand through her hair in exasperation. "I was just wondering why the last person who saw her, David Nolan, is still walking around Storybrooke as though he's an innocent man."

"Because he is." Emma told the mayor, rolling her eyes and thankful that they weren't having the conversation in person, because Emma wasn't sure she'd be able to maintain any sense of politeness with the mayor before her. "Innocent until proven guilty, remember? Besides, he wasn't the last person to see Kathryn."

"Oh, I forgot about the mysterious man, the one that you've been searching for." Regina said with a dry laugh. "Although, you haven't been able to find anything, have you? You don't even know if this man exists, and yet you won't look into David."

She swallowed, angry at Regina's insinuation that she was letting David walk around freely because she was his friend. She  _knew_ David and was certain he had nothing to do with Kathryn's disappearance. "And what motive do you think  _David_ has?"

"I suppose his divorce would run smoother with no wife to divorce himself from." Regina suggested, something that made Emma sigh in disbelief. As far as she was aware, the divorce was going smoothly and the two of them had settled into new relationships. "David  _may_ live with you, but you are also an elected official and it is your duty to look into every angle and every lead. I trust you'll investigate him before you decide he isn't involved."

Regina hung up before Emma could say anything and Emma exhaled heavily, wishing Regina hadn't gotten to her. The man David described  _did_ appear to be non-existent, and if Kathryn had been seen last with someone that Emma didn't know, she  _might_ have investigated further. Except David had clearly not known about her disappearance when she'd told him about Kathryn being missing.

Still, maybe she should look into it just a bit more. Even though she could hear the commotion inside the Rabbit Hole, she quickly called Ruby, who had apparently already found a volunteer sketch artist, and asked her to search the toll bridge. It was out of the way, and somewhere that she knew David had visited, and she figured that if she  _was_ going to start looking for evidence that linked the disappearance to David, not that she thought she'd find any, the toll bridge was a decent place to start.

However, she had other things to do. She hung up and hurried into the Rabbit Hole, running into the bartender who was standing anxiously by the doorway and shuffling from side to side, his gaze locked on the two men that were fighting beside the bar.

"What is going  _on_?" Emma asked him, straightening her shoulders and trying to catch a better glimpse of the two men. One was pinned down by the other, struggling underneath and throwing a few punches even as the other beat him. "Are you even open?"

"I'm not." The bartender stated, shaking his head nervously and peering across the room to the two men. "Keith helps out with the stock sometimes and Killian just sort of burst in. I tried to pull them apart, but I'd rather not get hurt myself."

"Killian?" Emma repeated, rushing over to the two of them before the bartender could say another word, looping her arms underneath Killian's shoulders and tugging him away from Keith. Killian struggled in her grip until she called his name, his whole body going limp at the sound of her voice and allowing her to pull him back.

Keith's nose looked broken, purpling bruises mottling his face, and she peered over Killian's shoulder to get a glimpse of his face, seeing that he had his own bruise forming on his jaw, his lip split and dripping blood. "Killian, what are you doing?"

"Emma?" he muttered as he stood up and disentangled himself from her hold, turning to face her and running his thumb across his lip and then wincing when he saw the red staining his skin. "Why are you here?"

"I think that's the least important question right now." Emma pointed out, tilting her head towards the pained form of Keith lying on the floor. "What's going on?"

"He assaulted me." Keith forced out, the words nasal, muffled and  _furious_ , and Emma turned a raised eyebrow to Killian, who met her gaze unapologetically. "He came in here and he just hit me."

"Well, I have to say that Killian doesn't exactly look untouched." Emma said harshly, reaching out to adjust Killian's leather jacket and then running her thumb lightly across the bruise marking his jaw.

"Maybe if you stopped feeling him up, you'd listen." Keith spat, pushing himself up so he was sitting on the floor, and Emma blinked down at him in shock, although she did pull her hands away from Killian and let them fall awkwardly to her sides. "He hit me. Was I not supposed to fight back?"

"Fine." Emma said, biting her lip and looking between the two injured men. "I'll take him to the station. And you should probably go to see Dr Whale, because I've seen broken noses before and I'm pretty sure you have one. Come file a report with me when you're done."

Keith grumbled and staggered to his feet, stumbling from the bar after sending her and Killian the dirtiest look that she'd seen in a while.

"Am I not hospital-worthy, Swan?" Killian asked, pressing the back of his hand to his lips and frowning.

Emma shook her head. "I can deal with that." she told him, hands on her hips. "Now, do I need handcuffs or will you just come with me?"

"I'd prefer the handcuffs under different circumstances." Killian teased with a wink and a boyish smirk, although he winced when his smile grew wider. "But I promise you don't need handcuffs to make me follow you."

"Come on then." she said, reaching out to take hold of his elbow and lead him away. "Turns out there's a cell in the station with your name on it."

~~~*~~~

"What were you  _thinking_?" Emma asked angrily, feeling uncertain over what to do now that it was the two of them alone in the station, Killian sitting on the cot inside the cell as she searched for the first aid kit. "Do you  _know_ what I'm currently dealing with, because it is more than enough work without having to handle this as well?"

Killian opened his mouth to speak and then winced again, his tongue darting out to sooth the angry wound on his lip. "Look, love, I-"

"Should shut up." Emma interrupted, finally digging out the red first aid box and then hurrying through to the back room to fetch an ice pack from the small freezer. He fell silent like she suggested, his blue stare locked on her as she crossed the room back to him and then reached out with her free hand to take hold of his chin and tilt his head up.

He swallowed, and Emma tried to hide how affected she was by his tender expression, even as she grazed her hand across his cheek to weave her fingers through his hair, her other hand pressing the cold pack gently to his broken lip. He didn't wince, appearing too focussed on Emma to want to move away.

"Does this hurt?"

Killian shifted slightly on the cot and then he raised his hand to nudge the ice pack away from his mouth. "Do you think I don't know what you're dealing with?" he asked, and Emma drew her hand back, curling her fingers around the ice pack and holding it tighter, unable to look away from him. "I know Kathryn Nolan is missing. Everyone does. Unfortunately, the town gossip seems to be concentrated more on Lacey than Kathryn. Last night, she told Keith she was pregnant. He reacted poorly and then, to make matters worse, he apparently saw fit to announce the news to everyone at the Rabbit Hole last night."

Emma groaned, unable to imagine how terrible Lacey must be feeling. She was certain that Lacey must have dreaded telling Keith, and for her to wake up after what was most likely a disturbed night's sleep to find that rumours had spread throughout town was bound to be one of her worst nightmares.

"I kind of want to congratulate you for punching him in the face." she told Killian with a chuckle, and Killian beamed at her, again appearing unbothered by the pain he was bound to be in. "But that doesn't mean I can let you go."

She toyed slightly with the strands of his hair and smiled fondly down at him when his eyes fell closed and he tilted his head back, further into her touch.

He was acting the same way David did when Mary-Margaret comforted him, the way Mary-Margaret did when David held her close or kissed her forehead, looking so at ease with her. She wondered if she'd act the same, if Killian could soothe her in the same way. She'd denied _wanting_  that with someone, but for the first time in years, she felt more open to the idea of actually finding something like that. Felt open to the idea that maybe she could find it with him.

"How did you know to get me a hot cocoa?" she asked hoarsely, dragging her fingers slowly through his hair as she withdrew her hand and then began to carefully apply steri-strips to the thin cut. "I didn't know I wanted one."

"I'm aware that you're rather fond of the drink." he said, speaking even despite her attempt to carefully fix his lip. "I heard Ruby ordering for you and I thought that you were probably busy and would appreciate a drink."

Emma exhaled slowly, searching his gaze for anything insincere, but he meant everything he said, and when he turned his head into her hand and brushed a kiss across her palm, she couldn't find it in herself to pull away.

Maybe it was a bad sign that, while he was sat in the cell at the sheriff station, she was considering that being with him, even though it was bound not to last, might be worth the risk.

Then again, when he nuzzled closer to her touch for a second and then pulled back and turned his familiar warm gaze towards her, she didn't care. She shuffled closer, flattening her hand against his cheek and ignoring how his brows furrowed curiously, and then she angled her head down and pressed her lips to his, taking another step closer when she felt his hand rest tentatively against her hip, his fingers flexing when she pressed closer.

She  _really_  loved kissing him, loved the way she felt that he was memorising every moment with her.

She needed to be closer, so she gently dropped to her knees, ensuring that the two of them were at the same level, and then pressed herself nearer to him. However, when she tried to deepen the kiss, when he opened his mouth to her, he flinched away.

"What is it?" she asked through heavy breaths, looking down to see that he was running his tongue across his lower lip, across the tended cut, and she frowned guiltily. "Does it hurt?"

"Not enough to stop me from kissing you." He whispered, a soft, content smile gracing his lips before he tugged her closer and kissed her again, a slow, lingering kiss that she felt through her entire being.

"We should get dinner." He said between kisses, and Emma just nodded, pushing him back so he was resting against the cell wall and she could kneel on the cot between his legs instead of kneeling on the floor. "Somewhere nice. With candles."

"Maybe when you're out on bail." she mumbled, and it appeared that her vocal agreement was enough for him to pull back and gaze at her with wide shocked eyes and an elated grin. "We could try somewhere that's  _not_ Granny's?"

He rested his forehead against hers, wrapping his arm around her and just  _holding_ her, and when she relaxed and let herself feel him embracing her, for a moment the weight of everything else she had to deal with fell away.

"So what will happen when Keith officially reports that I assaulted him?" He asked quietly, adjusting his hold on her and tracing gentle circles on the small of her back with his thumb. "Will I be remaining here to enjoy your company?"

"You'll definitely have to pay a fine. Possibly jail, although I've read a lot of files and it looks like crimes in Storybrooke rarely lead to incarceration." She explained, feeling his hand tangling in her hair and tugging her head back, and when she raised her eyebrow in question, he grinned cheekily and then pressed a hot open-mouthed kiss to the column of her neck, chuckling against her skin when she whimpered. "I suppose you might be hanging around for a few more days, but I can hardly visit you in your cell and kiss you whenever I feel like it."

"Well, that makes it all far less fun." He teased, drawing back from her and resting his head against the wall, the corner of his mouth quirking upward when Emma took his face in her hands, tracing the lines of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. "Then again, I suppose you have to punish me somehow. However, I can't really find it in myself to regret what I did. Not after what he did to Lacey."

"You're good with her." Emma mumbled, no longer bothering to think about why she couldn't stop herself from touching him. He was being just as affectionate with her. "You're close."

He opened his eyes and peered curiously at her. "Don't you know, Emma? I only have eyes for you."

Emma still couldn't believe he meant his pretty words, no matter how honest she found them to be, but they were nice to hear so she brushed a grateful kiss to his lips, giggling into him when he groaned but pressed his lips harder to hers anyway.

When her phone rang, she reluctantly pulled away from him, wriggling until his hold on her loosened and then standing up from the bed and digging her phone out from her pocket. It was Ruby, saying something about how she thought she'd found something, but Emma wasn't really paying attention because Killian had taken her hand in his and was pressing light kisses to her knuckles and the tips of her fingers.

And then Ruby screamed and Killian was no longer a distraction.

She hurried away, phone to her ear and asking Ruby if she was alright. Ruby was hyperventilating, her breaths loud and uneasy, and Emma tried to tell her to calm down and explain what had happened.

It took a while to calm the other woman down, but eventually Emma made out a few words about a jewellery box and a heart and she ordered Ruby to bring it straight back to the station.

If Ruby had said what Emma had  _thought_ she said, then Ruby had found a heart hidden at David's favourite spot in Storybrooke and as horrible as the thought was, there was no one else missing in Storybrooke, no one else missing who could have had their heart torn out.

She doubted that David could ever do something so horrible, but she was required to go where the evidence led her.

She cradled her head in her hands for a moment, because the reprieve she'd found with Killian had only been a small break before everything worsened, and she could hardly imagine life at the loft after accusing David of the heinous crime that had clearly taken place.

It was hearing Killian's voice that made her raise her head again, a frown marring her features when she saw he was on the phone, his voice loud enough for her to hear through the glass walls of the office, although he didn't seem aware of that.

"Why do you  _think_ I'm calling, Regina?" he snarled into the phone and Emma picked up a pen and started doodling on the nearest notepad in an attempt to look like she wasn't listening. "I'm assuming you've heard the latest scuttlebutt. Oh, you have. I'm rather interested in what you have to say, because as far as I'm aware, this is entirely your fault."

Emma glanced up in confusion, because she could see no way that Regina could be at all at fault for Lacey's pregnancy, but Killian's fury was clear in his voice and whether or not it was  _possible_  didn't seem to mean anything.

"Do you think she would have chosen this without your meddling?" He asked angrily, and Emma wished she could hear what Regina was saying on the other end of the line. "Do you think she would have found herself in this position if not for you?  _You_ stole her identity and her memories and when you lose everything, and yes, Regina, I mean  _when_ , you are going to have a lot to answer for. Because this, it isn't something that's going to go away when everything changes. It won't just be a memory."

He hung up, and although she could only see his profile, his expression was dark and Emma couldn't understand what he had even been talking about, what he had  _meant_ , because Regina might be a bitch, but Emma couldn't see how Regina could have done anything to Lacey that led to her losing herself.

But the thing that was weighing on Emma most was that she'd just heard another unexplainable conversation that she knew he was going to try and justify by telling her she wouldn't understand, wouldn't  _believe_ , and to know that so  _soon_ after she had tried to take a chance with him made her heart ache.

There was no explanation for the things he had said.

She  _couldn't_  pretend she hadn't heard, and she ignored the way Killian's smile widened and then faltered as she stormed towards him, this time staying on the other side of the bars. He stood from the cot and crossed the cell so he was standing before her, reaching through the bars for her hand and then swallowing when Emma pulled her hand out of his reach.

"What was that about?" she asked quietly, wishing her voice hadn't trembled. "Did you think I wouldn't hear? Besides, you shouldn't have your phone anyway. Can you give it here?"

He passed her his phone before he answered, his eyes dull and his mouth drawn into a thin line, and Emma knew that he was perfectly aware of what she was doing, that he'd given her a perfect reason to run. "I don't want to lie to you, Emma, but if I do answer, then there are only lies I can give you."

"Or you could tell me the truth." She begged, and it was a first for her, giving someone the chance to change her mind, to stop her from locking them out and leaving them. "I can handle it, whatever it is."

"You won't believe the truth." He muttered, regret plain on his face and Emma couldn't look at him anymore, could only tense her jaw and look away.

Ten minutes before, she'd been in his arms and she'd been happy and wanting to  _be_ with him, but now she was just more certain than ever that if she did give in to her feelings for him, he'd just be another person who would let her down.

"What is going  _on_  with you, Jones?" she asked through gritted teeth, struggling to stay and let him explain when all she wanted to do was run.

"Perhaps you already know." Jones suggested, and the hope in his eyes  _hurt_ because there was no logical explanation for any of the conversations she'd overheard. "Maybe you've heard something that explains everything but you just haven't realised it."

"What I've heard," Emma said bitterly, her voice choked, and she stumbled backwards when he reached towards her, his fingers barely grazing her cheek. "What I've heard are half-truths and lies and riddles and it's too much. I can't do it. I can't be with you if there are always going to be things you can't tell me.  _Won't_ tell me."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not enough." He looked utterly distraught when she glanced up at him, and she understood. She felt the same. They'd been so close before,  _she'd_ been so close to taking a leap of faith and trusting that he would catch her, but instead she'd backed away from the ledge and was refusing to jump. "I wish it was, but I don't know what is. I don't think there's anything you can say."

Emma retreated back into her office before he had a chance to say anything, before he had a chance to explain, because she didn't  _want_ to hear his attempts to fix things. It wouldn't be enough and it wouldn't help her understand.

If someone was involved in something they couldn't explain to her, she couldn't be with them. She'd decided  _that_  years before, after seeing the 'Wanted' poster that Neal had never mentioned until he  _had_ to, after breaking into the locked freezer that Zach kept in his basement and seeing all the body parts. She  _couldn't_ put her trust in someone again.

But it felt almost torturous to be near to him, to see how miserable he looked and know she felt the same, so she distracted herself. She had a few texts from Ruby that she hadn't read, not with all the other things that had demanded her attention over the past few hours, one of which stated that apparently August Booth had mentioned to Ruby that he'd illustrated a few of his own stories and had volunteered to act as a sketch artist.

That was, if she still needed one.

When she looked over at Killian again, he seemed to be fidgeting with his prosthetic hand, twisting it in the brace, taking it off and then clicking it back in place, his eyes closed and his head resting against the wall.

Ruby rushed in before Emma needed to find another distraction, the woman's face drained and a large plastic-bag covered box in her hands, and she collapsed into a chair in the main room. Emma approached her, slipping on a pair of latex gloves so that she could look at what Ruby had found without leaving any fingerprints.

"You alright?" Emma asked cautiously, and Ruby shook her head. Emma ignored how Jones was watching them, instead stepping a bit closer to the mysterious box and lifting the lid, her breath catching and jaw dropping when she saw a  _heart_ lying inside the wooden box.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ruby asked quietly, and Emma glanced from her to Killian, who was now standing by the bars of the cell and clearly trying to see what they were looking at, and then back to the unbeating organ.

"Yeah." Emma mumbled, horrified by Ruby's discovery.

It  _had_ to be Kathryn's heart. But David couldn't have done this. Emma had trouble believing David could be a suspect in a kidnapping, let alone a murder, but Ruby had found a  _heart_ by the toll bridge and Emma couldn't even  _begin_  to think of an explanation.

"I can't look." Ruby said, covering her mouth with her hand and turning away.

Emma closed the lid, frowning at the surprisingly familiar pattern on the lid of the box. She recognised it, which meant that she had seen it before, and the only places Emma knew well enough for  _that_  were Jones' shop and Mary-Margaret's loft.

And Jones was looking curious enough for her to know it  _wasn't_ the shop that she recognised it from.

"You okay?" Emma asked Ruby again, noticing that the other woman was trembling, her arms wrapped around her body. "I know that finding that must have been unexpected."

"I don't know what I am." Ruby stated shakily.

Emma grimaced, bending her knees so her eyes were level with the box, searching for anything strange or unusual. "It's going to be alright." She promised Ruby absently, deciding that the best course of action was probably to dust for prints and check against the town records. "We can figure out what happened now. Ruby, you did good."

"This is doing good?" Ruby repeated doubtfully, wringing her hands together. "I don't even know how I found it. I just… I guess I smelled it? Look, Emma, don't be impressed. I'm… this whole day has scared me out of my mind."

"I guess it is different to working in a diner." Emma acknowledged, leaving Ruby for only a brief moment to fetch the fingerprinting equipment from her office. "But you've really been amazing, Ruby, and even though it was different, you did it anyway."

Ruby pursed her lips, glancing around the station - at the box, at Jones - and then she shook her head. "Yeah, but I don't think I can do it again." Even as she spoke, Ruby helped Emma lay newspaper across the desk and under the box. "This was an adventure, sure, but I think I prefer giving people food and things to carting boxes with hearts in around town."

"It helps to know though, doesn't it?" Emma smiled weakly when Ruby nodded in agreement, starting to gently dust a fine powder across the lid of the box and biting her lip when she saw the dust forming patterns on the wood. "And I'm sure Granny might be thankful to hear that too."

"I might tell her now." Ruby said, biting her lip and edging away from the desk. "I think I'd feel more comfortable somewhere without loose hearts hanging around."

Emma nodded, although part of her dreaded Ruby leaving the station so that it was just her and Jones, alone.

She watched the waitress leave, and then she returned her attention to the box, unsure what to think when she could only see one fingerprint present on the box. She had hoped for more than one, something to cast doubt on David, but with only the one set of fingerprints present, she knew she'd have to take in their owner in for questioning.

"Ruby found a heart?" Emma looked from her work to see Jones still standing at the bars of his cell, his jaw tense. "And you think it's Kathryn's?"

"Open case, Jones." she said stiffly, because now they were by themselves, the air felt smothering and she wanted to ask him questions and give him a chance to explain everything, including the knowing, concerned expression that had graced his face when he asked the question. "Just because you're in the cell here doesn't mean you get access to all the details of every case."

"That's answer enough." Jones said, but he did at least retreat back to the cell cot, running a hand through his hair and looking irritatingly like he knew something, although she had a slight hope that despite all his secrets, he would tell her something as important as this clearly was. "Just be careful."

"Careful?" This time, when she looked at him, he was clearly worried, and she wondered why he was still fixing her with his usual soft stare even after she'd told him that she couldn't be with him. "I'm fingerprinting, not doing anything dangerous."

"I'd hardly say that's true." Jones commented, raising an eyebrow and nodding towards the box that Emma was still investigating. "If that truly is Kathryn's heart, then you're dealing with someone who has no qualms with ripping out hearts. Can you blame me for being slightly uneasy?"

Emma swallowed and didn't answer, focusing instead on taking careful photographs of the pictures and wishing she had an electronic fingerprint scanner like there were back in Boston. Although, she was glad that she'd managed to digitise everything in Storybrooke over the preceding weeks, because manually trying to match them would have been a daunting, close-to-impossible task.

But, the job was slightly more appealing once she realised that running the fingerprints on the computer would have to take place back in her office, away from Killian Jones.

~~~*~~~

Emma stood outside the door to the loft for almost ten minutes, pacing back and forth on the small landing. The fingerprints hadn't been David's, but although Emma had hoped such news would be a relief, there wasn't anything soothing about what she'd uncovered instead.

She didn't want to do her job, because the answers she'd found  _couldn't_ be right, but she  _had_ to.

After one final deep breath, she pushed the door open, her dread even more powerful when she saw David and Mary-Margaret on the sofa, a small pile of Missing posters strewn across the table. David looked exhausted, his head resting against the back of the sofa, Mary-Margaret carding her fingers gently through his hair, her other linked with his.

"Any news?" David asked the instant she closed the door, and Emma tensed, that question the last thing she wanted to hear. "From the look on your face, I'm guessing either no news or bad news."

Emma exhaled shakily, and part of her wished she was back at the station, because after Keith had called and drunkenly dropped the charges, Lacey's angry tone audible over the line, Killian had left silently, and being alone was bound to be better than this. "It's... Yeah, it's bad news."

"She's not... Is she...?" David trailed off, holding Mary-Margaret closer, the teacher tucking her head underneath his chin. "Emma, what's happened?"

"Ruby found something." Emma admitted carefully, clenching and unclenching her fist, refusing to sit down. She  _couldn't_ sit with them, as if everything was normal, because it wasn't. "By the toll bridge. It was... Mary-Margaret, it was your jewellery box."

"What?" Mary-Margaret gasped, jolting out of David's arms and glancing over to her bedside table. "But it's right... wait, it's gone." Emma saw the instant that Mary-Margaret realised things were terribly wrong, her eyes widening as she slowly eased away from David, lips trembling. "That's not everything, is it, Emma?"

"No." Emma swallowed, took yet another deep breath, and then gritted her teeth determinedly. "Inside the box, we found a heart. I haven't gotten any answers, because the DNA testing is going to take a few days at the least, but Kathryn's the only person missing in Storybrooke and-"

"You don't see how it can belong to anyone else." David croaked, his face pale and shaken. "And it's in Mary-Margaret's jewellery box?"

"There are no other fingerprints on the box. Only yours. I have to take you in."

"Emma, you know this is insane?" David protested, leaping up from the sofa before Mary-Margaret had a chance. "You can't think Mary-Margaret did this?"

"I don't." Emma snapped, and David gulped and faltered, twisting to look down at Mary-Margaret and reaching out to her, cupping her face in his hand and brushing a stray tear away from her cheek. "But I have to do my job and right now all evidence points to her."

"What about the man I saw?"

"The man you can't identify." Emma pointed out carefully and David growled something under his breath. "I'm going to keep looking but right now, this is the only evidence I have of anyone being involved in what happened to Kathryn and I have to follow it."

Mary-Margaret seemed to pull herself together, finally standing stiffly from the couch and brushing her hands along her skirt, straightening it out, and then she met Emma's stare and nodded. "I understand. Besides, if we all know I didn't do it, I can't imagine I'll be there for long."

"You won't." David promised, curling his finger under her chin and pulling her close for a brief, desperate kiss. Emma felt a pang of longing at the clear demonstration of their belief in one another. "I'll find the man I saw, and I'll work with Emma until you're home again. There's an opening for Deputy, right?"

"David, I can't just appoint you Deputy. Can you even use a gun?" Emma asked, but David's pleading, desperate expression struck a chord within her and she shrugged. "I can check the budget. I'm sure there's something you can do."

David nodded and, as Emma led Mary-Margaret from the apartment, the two of them turned round to see him perched on the edge of the couch, his back bowed and his head in his hands, and Emma hated that it was her job to devastate them like this.

Then again, whoever it was that  _had_ killed Kathryn and left the trail leading to Mary-Margaret could hardly have done a better job at making Emma determined to track them down.

~~~*~~~

That night, the apartment felt strange and stifling. Emma assumed David had gone to bed, but hadn't checked behind the curtain separating his and Mary-Margaret's bed from the main room, and from the occasionally heavy sighs she kept overhearing, she imagined sleep was something he was finding difficult.

She was feeling the same. The apartment was full of objects and decorations that made it  _Mary-Margaret's_ home, and yet she was the one who was locked in the station and the two of them that were left had barely been there long enough to make a mark on the place.

Emma felt, for the first time in a while, like she didn't belong in the apartment.

It was lonely.

She even wrote out a message to Jones on her phone, because she never felt lonely when she knew he was listening, except she'd already told him, only hours before, that she wasn't having a relationship with him. So why should he listen? Why would he care?

The thought didn't stop her from writing something, a simple ' **You're the only one I want to talk to right now** ', except she couldn't send it. He'd promised her, days before, that he would always want her, so surely it was up to  _her_ to decide when she  _was_ ready, and she knew that, after today, she wasn't.

And as unstable as her thoughts seemed to be when it came to him, it was unfair to involve him in it too. When she knew what she wanted,  _then_ she could message him and tell him about her day and perhaps even let him comfort her, but right now, she couldn't.

She couldn't let him in, not like that, because with him, she just always wanted to be  _closer_ , but the only way she could think of to keep him in her life without being misleading was to return to the acquaintance they had maintained months before.

Back when his touches weren't familiar, back before she learned that kissing him always felt like she was finally breathing after so long without air.

Emma didn't send the message. Instead, she dropped her phone onto her bedside table and curled up under the blankets, holding them tightly around herself as though they could be a barrier between her and everything else that was going on.

And for a moment, with her eyes closed and her head buried in her pillow, she humoured the thought of Jones' arms being the thing surrounding her, because she knew now that when he held her, even if only for a second, everything else fell away.

But she wasn't in his arms and she couldn't see a future where she'd let that happen, because Emma  _didn't_  wake in the embrace of anyone, didn't seek comfort from anyone else, so she buried the thought and tried to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Exams caused a bit of a delay, but I finally go it done. I hope you enjoy the chapter - thank you so much for all the kudos/bookmarks/subscriptions/comments! I'd love to hear your feedback for this one. 
> 
> Thank you to colormyheartred for editing this for me!

**Chapter 17**

Mary-Margaret looked exhausted when Emma arrived at the station, barely lifting her head from the thin pillow when Emma entered the building, her short hair messy and her eyes dull and red-rimmed.

"How are you?" Emma asked when she arrived, using the ancient coffee machine in the back room to make some watery coffee for her and Mary-Margaret and then handing the teacher the foam cup through the bars of her cell. "Not great?"

"I could definitely be better." Mary-Margaret agreed, taking a sip and wincing at the taste. "I don't know how much this coffee will help."

"I've drunk enough of this to know that it won't help much at all." Emma told her, taking another sip of the terrible drink. "But it still provides caffeine, which is the only reason I'm drinking it anyway."

Mary-Margaret seemed to agree, drawing another long sip of coffee from the cup and then grimacing. "You're here earlier than usual."

"Well, I wasn't going to hang around at home instead of proving your innocence." Emma reminded her, and Mary-Margaret actually smiled. "Besides, I think David would have murdered me if I'd slept in instead of coming here and keeping you company."

"Is David not coming?" Mary-Margaret stood on her tiptoes to look past Emma, just in case David was a few steps behind her or hiding around the corner. "I thought he might come in to work  _with_ you?"

"He did call in to take a day off from the shelter, but he barely slept last night." Emma explained, sorting through the information she'd gathered the day before and not meeting Mary-Margaret's eyes. "I told him to try and get some sleep and come in after lunch. Besides, I have to ask you some questions with Regina."

"Regina?" Mary-Margaret gaped over at Emma, who sent her a sheepish smile in return. "Why Regina?"

"Because she woke me up this morning by calling to tell me that she needed to be present at your interrogation to ensure my impartiality." Emma mumbled, rolling her eyes when she repeated Regina's exact words. A phone call from the mayor had been the worst thing to wake up to. "And to be honest, it's probably for the best. Her being there can only help, because when I find you innocent, surely the best thing would be making sure no one doubted I'd freed you because of our friendship."

"It's probably for the best that David isn't here too, then." Mary-Margaret agreed, although there was an air of anxiety around her that hadn't been there before. "If Regina's coming to stop the sheriff department from being biased."

Emma snorted, sending a comforting smile towards Henry. "Honestly, I'm hoping my bias towards you will balance her ridiculous bias against you and it will all work out for the best."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Well then, I'm the Sheriff and what I say goes." Emma said firmly, but at Mary-Margaret's raised eyebrow, Emma shrugged. "Seriously, there's no way we're going to find you guilty. This evidence, it's almost too good, especially considering your lack of motive. And because it  _was_ someone else, they're bound to slip up at some point or another and I'll get them."

They both drank the rest of their coffee in a suffocating silence, Emma perched on the edge of the couch beside the cell, just  _waiting_ for Regina to show up and make everyone utterly miserable.

Regina's heels were audible before they saw the mayor. She looked even sterner than usual, an angry, determined glint in her eye that made Emma slightly more anxious that than she had been minutes earlier.

"You're already here, Miss Swan?" Regina stated with a raised eyebrow, an unflattering look of surprise on her face. "I had assumed our meeting might be too early for you to be the first to arrive."

Emma sent her a cold smile in response and then pointed the mayor towards the interrogation room. Once the mayor was out of the room, she opened up Mary-Margaret's cell and gave her a soft smile in hopes of comforting her, but Mary-Margaret seemed shaky and uncertain after Regina's entrance.

The short walk to the interrogation room felt like it took hours, Mary-Margaret taking small shuffling steps and keeping her head bowed. The mayor looked smug when they finally entered, a cruel smirk marring her face. "Miss Blanchard."

"Madame Mayor." Mary-Margaret said, her voice surprisingly even and strong. "Good morning. I'm ready for your questions."

Regina looked bitter, clearly having wanted Mary-Margaret to look more scared by her presence, and Emma couldn't quell the proud grin she sent to her friend, finally taking the seat beside Regina and nodding reassuringly at the teacher. "Are you sure, Miss Blanchard?" she asked, her voice quiet and dangerous.

Mary-Margaret swallowed loudly and then shrugged. "I have nothing to hide. Ask me anything."

The tape recorder was turned on and then Emma leant on the table, hands tucked underneath her chin, and levelled Mary-Margaret with a searching look. "The heart was found buried near the old Toll Bridge." She began, deciding that stating the known facts was probably a good place to start. "It had been cut out by what we think was a hunting knife. Have you ever been to that bridge before?"

"Yes," Mary-Margaret's voice was slightly weaker now, but Emma thought it was most likely due to the mention of the heart instead of any guilt. "David and I liked to meet there."

"Mr. Nolan?" Emma prompted, wanting to keep things as formal as she could with Regina sitting there and judging every moment. "That's who you mean?" Mary-Margaret simply nodded, her lips drawn together in a narrow line. "And you met there for what purpose?"

"We were in a relationship." Mary-Margaret stated clearly, faltering when Regina scoffed loudly. "We had picnics there sometimes. David always said it was his favourite place, because that was where he saw me for the first time."

"How cloying." Regina commented under her breath, and Emma rolled her eyes. Mary-Margaret's eyes narrowed, but other than that, she showed no sign of hearing Regina's words.

"Okay. And have you ever seen this box before?" Emma asked, taking the wooden box from a nearby cabinet and laying it on the desk in front of the teacher. Mary-Margaret's lips shook, her eyes widening, and then she nodded hesitantly.

"It's my jewellery box." Mary-Margaret mumbled, drawing anxious patterns on the table but still meeting Regina's excited gaze.

"It's what we found the heart in."

Mary-Margaret nodded, bit her lip and then her stare hardened. "Don't you see what's happening here?" she asked, her voice quiet and desperate. "Someone stole that box and put the heart in it.  _I_  didn't have anything to do with it. I'm a good person. What reason would I have to kill Kathryn?"

"Oh, I'm sure we can find a reason." Regina told her and Emma spun to look at the mayor, because if anyone here was biased, it  _wasn't_ Emma. "There's always something."

"Can I speak to you in the hallway, please?" Emma asked suddenly. Regina scowled, but followed Emma out of the room, raising her eyebrow when Emma turned on her. "What was that? I was doing the questions, you should have stayed quiet. I was asking questions and you were just frightening her."

"Do you really think she didn't do this?" Regina queried, and Emma felt strangely like the mayor was looking for any sign of doubt, although she knew Regina wouldn't find one. "If the box was stolen from her, like she claims, don't you think that there'd be signs of a break in? You're her roommate. Has there been in a break in?"

"The apartment's been chaos since David moved all his stuff in. If there was a break-in, I'm not surprised none of us noticed." Emma pointed out, but the word 'if' seemed to have been enough to place a smile back on Regina's face.

"But you're not sure. As Sheriff, I would hope you were observant enough to notice such a crime occurring in your own home." She said. Emma just rolled her eyes. "Still certain of her innocence?"

"I am." Emma promised. "Mary-Margaret has no reason to want to harm Kathryn, and even if she did, I can't believe that woman would do a thing to harm  _anyone_."

"And I can't believe you're this naive." Regina snapped. "There's always something that would make life better. There's always something  _more_. Can you imagine what it must be like to find happiness and know that any moment, it could be gone? Do you not think Mary-Margaret worries that one day, David Nolan will remember and he'll love Kathryn again?"

"That doesn't mean anything." Emma stated, because whatever Regina thought, she'd seen David and Mary-Margaret together, and even if he did remember, however messy that would be, she was certain things would be far more complicated than David simply leaving Mary-Margaret. "Mary-Margaret wouldn't kill someone, especially due to some hypothetical situation that seems very unlikely of actually happening. Besides, plenty of people lose the things that make them happy and it doesn't make them into the person you seem to believe Mary-Margaret is."

Regina's lip curled and she took a step closer to Emma. "You'll be surprised at what people are willing to do to keep hold of things they want."

~~~*~~~

The interrogation had continued for long after she'd taken Regina out of the room to ask her what the hell she was doing, and Regina had looked furious when Mary-Margaret's answers remained as firm and honest as they had at the start.

Regina had finally left around lunchtime, and after another few reassuring words to Mary-Margaret, Emma had locked her friend in the cell and left for lunch. She would have had lunch at the station, but she needed some time away.

The case meant too much to Emma, and at the Sheriff station, she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it.

She ordered a cheeseburger from Ruby, and then glanced warily around the diner, hoping that Jones wasn't there. He wasn't, but when her eyes passed over Lacey, who was sat alone in a booth reading a book, the woman grinned at her and waved her over.

"Afternoon." Lacey said in greeting, folding down the corner of her page and then placing the book on the table. "How are you?"

"Could be better." Emma stated honestly, smiling weakly when Lacey nodded understandingly. "There's a lot going on at the moment."

"I've heard." Lacey said sympathetically, getting distracted for a moment when Ruby arrived with a large plate of fries and a BLT. "We all know it's ridiculous though. It was definitely not Mary-Margaret. Then again, it's not like people are discussing Kathryn."

"Now that's something  _I've_ heard." Emma said, grimacing apologetically. "How are you?"

"I'm surprisingly alright." Lacey told her, and Emma raised both her eyebrows when she realised Lacey was telling the truth. "I mean, the situation isn't ideal and Keith was a total jerk about it, but he's always been a jerk and at least now I know I won't be going back to him anytime soon. I mean, he was good in bed but he's hardly worth it."

"Jones seemed to think he was worth a few punches." Emma commented idly, and Lacey chuckled, a warm expression on her face.

"Yeah, when he found out that Keith hadn't only said that he didn't want to be involved but had then told everyone, he said quite a few things about honour and bad form, and to be honest, I was kind of craving the excitement." Lacey explained, biting her lip and raising an eyebrow mischievously. "I was just upset I didn't get to see it. I got Keith to drop the charges though. I yelled at him for a while and pointed out he was hardly innocent in the entire thing, and then he was uncomfortable enough that he dropped the charges just to get me to leave him alone."

"It still sucks." Emma pointed out. "I know you wanted control over how it got out."

"It was going to be common knowledge sooner or later." Lacey said with a shrug, just as Emma's own meal arrived at the table. "Is it bad that I'm kind of enjoying the drama?" Emma didn't comment, choosing instead to take a large bite of her burger. "That and Keith's broken nose."

Emma snorted, and Lacey looked rather proud of herself. "Have you thanked Jones, then?"

"I haven't seen him since." Lacey said idly, but then she narrowed her eyes at Emma, and Emma had to wonder if she was clearly uncomfortable talking about Jones. She didn't want to talk about him, not after the day before. "Although I heard from Leroy that he drank quite a bit of rum once he was let out of your cell last night. I think maybe not talking about him is the best plan for now."

"Sounds good." Emma breathed, relieved that Lacey had noticed and had the sense not to ask for explanation.

"Unless you want to talk about, that is." Lacey suggested with a teasing smirk, the grin fading when Emma shook her head. "Fine. I'll change the topic. I think I'm starting to show."

Emma frowned slightly, leaning back to look over Lacey and then shaking her head slightly. "You're at thirteen weeks now, right?" she asked, and Lacey nodded, putting her knife and fork down and rubbing her hand uncomfortably across her stomach. "I don't think you're showing. Not enough so that people will notice. Maybe only if they're looking."

"Well, they are looking." Lacey pointed out, a grimace on her face when she looked pointedly around the diner and a few people obviously glanced away. "They're looking at me more now than back when I wore my tiny dresses, which don't fit anymore, by the way, and I  _wanted_ them to look at me then."

"I'd try and excuse them by saying nothing ever happens in Storybrooke, but that's hardly true right now." Emma said through a mouthful of food. "People are just terrible."

The two of them ate in silence for a while, Lacey ordering a large banana milkshake and then dipping her fries in it, and when Ruby took a five minute break, Emma listened to the other two exchange gossip, most of it pertaining to the drunken outings of Ruby and Whale a week or so earlier.

"You seem different." Emma commented, once Ruby had returned to waitressing and Lacey was draining the last few drops of her drink.

"I kind of feel different." Lacey admitted. "Calmer. It's kind of nice. I was actually wondering if you had any advice because I've been reading a few books since everything that happened last week and they're all so complicated. I'd prefer just hearing from someone who's been through it, you know?"

"You do realise Ashley just had a baby, right?" Emma pointed out awkwardly. "She probably knows more than me."

"Yeah, but she's all happy with her new fiancé and her little girl and she doesn't get it." Lacey mumbled, slightly bitterly. "I mean, I'm sure that what happened with you was different from this as well, but I just think you'd be more helpful."

"I don't know about that." Emma mumbled, but Lacey was looking surprisingly earnest and Emma couldn't find it in herself to say nothing. "I told you'd I'd be useless, but I suppose, if you want to talk, then I can listen."

Lacey exhaled loudly, as if relieved, and then she rested her elbows on the table and leant closer to Emma. "I've been thinking of finding out the sex of the baby. I mean, I can do that soon, right? But I'm also not sure I want to know. I mean, it's already real enough, but if I know what it is, then it's as if it's a person, and I'm not sure I can deal with that."

"I never found out." Emma admitted quietly, toying slightly with the paper her burger had been wrapped in. "I didn't know want to know. Not when I knew I was going to give it away. I mean, I couldn't be a parent so I didn't see any reason to find out something that might make me more attached."

"You always knew you weren't going to keep him?" Lacey asked quietly, and Emma swallowed, shrugging her shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, as though the memories weren't painful. "You never even considered what life would be like if you did?"

"I had… moments." Emma told her eventually, deciding that, out of everyone she knew, Lacey was the least likely to judge. "Of course I did. But I always I couldn't do it. I mean, if I had wanted to keep him, I would have still had a few months in prison after his birth, and I never really had a parent so I didn't have any idea what to do. I just knew that being without me had to better for him."

Emma had found that most people seemed to think they were better off without her in their lives.

"I don't know what I'm doing either." Lacey said quietly. "I mean, my father's not going to be any help. We haven't spoken since… well, I can't remember when, and I don't think he'd want to be involved. I'm sure he knows. Everyone knows. He's clearly not interested."

"Your father?"

"The florist." Lacey explained briefly. "I just… I guess I sort of think that, when I see my baby, I might know what to do? I mean, you just said you couldn't be a parent, but now that you've met Henry, you seem pretty good at it."

"Oh, no, I'm not-" Emma stammered, faltering when Lacey looked amused by her attempt to deny the comment. "It's different. I didn't  _raise_ him, I just want him to be happy."

"Maybe that's all you need." Lacey wondered, eating her final fry and then shrugging at Emma. "I mean, if all you do is try to make him happy, I don't know how you can go wrong."

Emma shrugged, feeling that she was hardly qualified to make any comments about being a parent. "And on that note," She said, pushing her empty plate towards the center of the table and standing up. "I have things to do. Cases to solve. But, uh, if you want my number, I suppose we could talk more. Maybe when things are quieter."

Lacey nodded, and as they waited for Ruby to return with a Caesar Salad for Emma to take to Mary-Margaret, they exchanged numbers and some small talk, but nothing as personal as their previous conversation had been.

She was finally on her way out of Granny's when she strode past August, halting when she felt him take a hold of her wrist in an attempt to get her attention, although he let go the second she turned to face him. "August?"

"Sheriff." He drawled, a wide grin drawing across his face. "Just a quick question for you, if you don't mind."

"I am kind of busy." she pointed out, looking pointedly at one of the 'missing' posters that was still hung in the window of Granny's. "So it has to be really quick."

"Well, I've heard there's been a few changes to the case, but if you still need that sketch artist that Ruby mentioned, I'd like to help."

Emma gaped at him, because if he really could help and could draw a decent picture, they might actually be able to attempt to find David's mystery man and anyone slightly suspicious who  _wasn't_ Mary-Margaret was more than worth looking into. "You'd really do that?"

"May as well." He said with a shrug, tapping his fingers irritatingly against the table. "If you give me time to eat my lunch, I can meet you at the station and we can sort this whole thing out."

"I guess I could give David a call and get him to meet us there." Emma said, eager for this whole mystery to be cleared up. "Hopefully you can work with a pretty terrible description, because so far, all I've got out of David is tall-ish with dark hair and a silly coat."

"Helpful." August muttered, making Emma chuckle. "But I'll try. See you soon?"

Emma nodded, leaving the diner before August could say anything more and striding down the street back towards the station, Mary-Margaret's lunch in one hand and her other hand holding her phone to her ear.

If they were going to get August to sketch someone, they needed David there to describe him.

~~~*~~~

David had already been on his way to the station when Emma called him, and by the time she reached the building, he was standing by the window and waving through it to Mary-Margaret. Emma had to grin at their antics, because it was nice to see David was still so happy to see Mary-Margaret, that he still remained the same even with the charges levelled against her.

"You weren't waiting long, were you?" Emma asked as she unlocked the door, letting David enter first and watching as he bound across the room to take a seat at the couch beside the cell, immediately reaching through the bars to lace his fingers with Mary-Margaret. "I didn't realise you were so close when I called."

"Not too long." David said with a shrug, and after Emma had passed the takeaway Caesar salad through the bars for Mary-Margaret, she retreated into the office to give the couple some time alone.

It seemed that Mary-Margaret was more upset than she had appeared to Emma, because as soon as Emma entered her office, she saw Mary-Margaret shuffle as close as possible to David, her eyes red and David's thumb carefully brushing away each tear that fell.

Their shared moments like that were the ones that made Emma envious. The ones that made her wish she had someone she could be as open with, someone who cared and showed her that, not only with words, but with quiet gestures and gentle touches.

Emma hated relying on words, because words were used for lies, and she'd had enough people claiming to care about her, only to show her otherwise.

She'd never had anyone like David.

Emma spotted August before he could enter the main room of the sheriff station, the man swaggering along the small corridor leading into the building, and she gestured him into the office before he could interrupt David and Mary-Margaret.

"I'm not sure I've thanked you for doing this." Emma said, pointing towards the spare seat and noticing how August limped across the small office to sit stiffly in the chair. "You alright?"

"It's really the least I can do." August told her with a shrug, his hand kneading his thigh as though attempting to massage it. "And I'm fine. My leg just cramped a bit on the walk over. Nothing for you to worry about."

"I wasn't worrying." Emma said, and August chuckled. "I have too many other things to worry about."

"That's fair." August stated, leaning towards her and resting his elbows on his knees. "Now, do you have any idea how a sketch artist… sketches? I've illustrated a few stories over the last few years but I think doing this might be a bit different."

"It's just worth giving it a try. I mean, your pictures can't be much worse than David's description." Emma told him, tilting her head towards the wrinkled sheet of paper she had pinned up on the filing cabinet days before. "How's your writing going? I mean, that's why you came here?"

"I'm still researching." August answered, and for a second Emma felt he was searching her for something, but she wasn't sure what for. "This town feels like it's full of secrets and I want to uncover some of them before I focus on why I'm really here."

"Secrets?" Emma repeated, and August just smiled mysteriously. "Right, well-"

"Are you drawing the man I saw?" David interrupted before she could say anymore, which Emma was grateful for because small talk really wasn't her strong suit and it would have become a necessity if she'd been alone with August for much longer. "Because we pretty desperately need to find him."

"I can see that." August said, glancing quickly at Mary-Margaret before digging a pencil out of his pocket and showing it to David. "Just give me a few moments to get ready. I'm used to illustrating fairy tales, not drawing from a description."

Emma grimaced slightly, already imagining that the picture they'd get from a collaboration between the two men might not be the most accurate, but at the same time, it could hardly make things any worse.

"I'll just leave you two alone then." she muttered, offering David her seat as she slid out of it, and then heading over to Mary-Margaret, who was looking absolutely miserable now that David had left her side.

"What if this man just saw Kathryn last?" Mary-Margaret mumbled as soon as Emma collapsed onto the small couch. "What if he knows nothing and all you have is my jewellery box and Kathryn's heart?"

"Then I'll keep looking." Emma promised. "Once David and August are finished in there, I'm going to leave David in charge of the station and head back to check for any break-ins in the loft. Do you have any idea when the jewellery box went missing?"

"No." Mary-Margaret admitted, nervously playing with the ring she always wore. "I mean, I thought I'd lost it but I assumed that happened when I was tidying things away so there was space for David. I don't know when it actually went missing."

Emma nodded. She definitely hadn't noticed any sign of a break-in during her months living the loft, and she like to think she was observant enough to notice should anything like that have happened. But there was no other explanation. "Did your jewellery box have any valuables in?"

"No, just some cheap jewellery. Nothing I'd miss." Mary-Margaret told her, looking fondly down at the peridot ring. "I mean, this is only jewellery I have that means anything and I never take it off."

Emma knew how she felt. The two necklaces Emma always wore were kept separate from everything else, curled together in a small bowl by her bedside whenever she wasn't wearing them, which was only when she was sleeping or dressing up for some bounty hunt. "But there were things in it?"

"I think so." Mary-Margaret said, a confused frown gracing her face. "I don't really remember ever using it. I just know that the box is mine." There were a few minutes of comfortable silence before she spoke again. "You're leaving David in charge?"

"I could use a deputy." Emma stated, and the two women shared a smile. "It's been busy around here lately, and David's just as qualified as anyone else in town. And probably more determined to help."

They skirted around the topic of Mary-Margaret's imprisonment as they continued chatting, waiting for David and August to finish. It was almost an hour later when the two men exited the main office, David looking irritated and August looking smug.

"Well, we got something." August said, holding out a sketch of a man's face. His hair was styled, a scarf tied around his neck, but, as Emma had dreaded, he looked nothing like anyone she had seen around Storybrooke. "Recognise him?"

"Not at all." Emma muttered, and David huffed angrily. "But I'll make some copies and stick them around town, just in case it means something to anyone else."

She left David with Mary-Margaret, August following her through to the back-room, where the photocopier was. "So, drawing someone from a description is tough." August said, but Emma was a bit preoccupied as she quickly wrote 'Have You Seen This Man' and a phone number before struggling with the ancient piece of technology. "Especially when David only saw this man from a distance."

"We just have to hope the picture is enough." Emma mumbled, the photocopier stirring into action after she thumped her fist down on it a couple of times. "That someone knows  _something_. Also, you know you really shouldn't talk about this once you leave the station, what with it being a open case and everything?"

"I can keep my mouth shut." August promised, startling Emma when he reached out and placed his hand over hers. "Now, you've been pretty busy the last few days if you're interested in getting another drink. Surely you could use some time off?"

Emma pulled her hand back, busying herself by collecting and arranging the printed posters into a neat pile. "I could use some time off." She agreed. "But I'm not getting a drink with you. I'm not interested."

"As friends, then." August corrected, an annoyingly knowing look in his eye, as though he knew  _exactly_ why Emma was refusing him. "You can't argue that you need a break."

"I also don't have the time to take one." She corrected, handing him a few posters. "And we can have a drink when I believe that you really do mean 'as friends'. Now, do you mind hanging some of these around town?"

August chuckled. "Give me time and then I'm sure you'll believe." He said quietly, an unexplainable smile gracing his mouth. "And no, I don't mind."

~~~*~~~

Emma had left David and Mary-Margaret at the station, leaving David with some keys to the station and a job. She hung up a few posters on the walk back to the loft, but her mind was more focused on what she would do when she got home.

Her previous job may have been about finding people, but she wasn't anywhere near to an expert on looking for evidence. And yet, there had to be  _something_ because there was no way that the school teacher was at all involved with Kathryn's disappearance.

She studied the door first, but there was no sign of forced entry. The same was true for the windows. If someone  _had_ broken in, they had done a good job covering their tracks. Emma carefully picked through a few objects on Mary-Margaret's side-table, spinning around when she heard the door open and then gaping when she saw that it was her son.

"Henry?" Emma asked, and he grinned at her. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you in school?"

"We have to help Miss Blanchard."

"I  _am_ helping her." Emma stated, nudging aside of few of David's things in the hope that she'd spot something. "That's why I'm searching the apartment. And as much as I'd enjoy you're help, you should be in school."

"I wasn't doing anything at school." Henry protested, swallowing when Emma raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, not in this period. Miss Blanchard isn't there so we didn't have a teacher."

Emma searched him for any sign of a lie but there wasn't one, so she shrugged. "Aren't there substitutes?" she asked, scowling slightly when Henry shook his head. "Well, okay then. You can help until you have to be back at school."

"What are we looking for?"

"We're looking to see if someone broke in. I'm looking for busted door jambs, broken glass, muddy boot prints. That kind of thing." She explained, although she was already pretty certain that she'd wasn't going to find the first two.

"You think someone is setting her up." Henry stated, and Emma nodded. "Like my mom? She'd do it."

"She hardly has a motive, Henry." Emma pointed out, flopping down onto Mary-Margaret's bed when she glanced around the searched room and realised there was  _nothing_. "Although, I can't see what anyone would have against Mary-Margaret."

"She hates Snow White." Henry told her, toeing off his shoes and joining Emma on the bed, Emma unable to quell a smile when she turned and saw her son beaming at her. "I mean, it's a motive, right?"

"Not a motive that will hold up well in court." Emma said, stretching out to ruffle his hair. "I think you'll have a hard time getting the judge to believe."

Henry seemed to accept that, and for a brief moment, Emma allowed herself to forget about her work and the case and simply enjoyed being with her son. She listened as he spoke about school, about his book and the stories and the curse, and he only fell silent when the heating turned on, as it always did at that time of day, and a loud rattle sounded from nearby.

"What was that?" Emma asked, sitting up and glancing towards where she thought the noise had come from. Henry was glancing around too, and when they heard the sound again, Emma rolled over to look at the floor, reaching down from the bed and shifting a small rug to the side to reveal a vent.

Henry hurried to her side, peering over the edge of the bed as she lifted the metal grate and reached inside to pick up whatever it was that was rattling around inside. The object was wrapped in cloth, and Emma carefully unrolled the fabric to reveal a blood-stained hunting knife, just like the one that was likely used to remove Kathryn's heart, and she felt worry curling in the pit of her stomach, because no matter what Emma believed, it was going to be hard to excuse this.

"Is that a knife?" Henry asked, stretching his hand past Emma as though he was going to touch the weapon and Emma gently swatted his hand away. "How did it get under Miss Blanchard's bed?"

"I don't know." Emma carefully wrapped the knife back up and then nudged Henry off the bed. "But I think it's a good sign that you should be heading back to school. I'll walk you."

Henry grumbled a few complaints, but he cheered up almost instantly when she pulled him into her side and they walked along the Main Street together, starting to babble on again about various ways the Evil Queen could have planted the knife in the apartment, all of which sounded impossible.

Emma refused to let him know that though.

~~~*~~~

David was gone when Emma returned to the station. Mary-Margaret had explained that he'd gone to talk to Regina, which Emma was certain was a terrible idea. She ignored Mary-Margaret's further comments, retreating into the back-room to dust the knife for fingerprints.

She didn't want Mary-Margaret to know that she'd found anything until she knew  _exactly_ what to tell her, and Emma was desperately hoping that once she'd looked more closely at the weapon, she would have some  _good_ news.

It took a while, but Emma did find something. Mary-Margaret's fingerprints  _were_ on the knife, the fingerprinting powder marking similar patterns all along the metal of the blade. However, there were other, intact but unidentifiable, fingerprints on the handle.

Someone else had held the knife, but their fingerprints weren't recorded on the Storybrooke database. It was even more clear that Mary-Margaret had to have been set up, because if she  _had_ used the knife to kill Kathryn, surely her fingerprints would not only have been on the blade.

And yet, with her fingerprints on there, it wasn't enough to prove her innocent either.

"I found something." She said when she returned to the main room, hating how Mary-Margaret's expression filled with hope at her words. "I found a hunting knife. Under your bed."

"What?" Mary-Margaret stammered, stumbling back and collapsing onto the cot, her face in her hands. "That doesn't make sense. I never… that can't be true. You can't have found one. I don't even have a Chef's knife. I lost it years ago. I don't own a hunting knife."

"Your fingerprints are on it." Emma admitted, and Mary-Margaret sobbed. "I think it's forged. I mean, your fingerprints aren't on the handle, just the blade. Someone else held the knife properly, but I can't identify who it was. But whoever it is, they're another suspect. Whatever this knife means, it has at least bought us some more time."

~~~*~~~

Emma had left the Sheriff station once it was past six, promising to return to talk to Mary-Margaret about the possible events awaiting her sometime later that evening. She met David at Granny's for dinner, because neither of them were particularly proficient cooks, and then the two of them returned to the loft.

There was something strangely daunting about the two of them returning to Mary-Margaret's home without Mary-Margaret herself. David grew more and more miserable with each step closer to their home, and Emma found herself wishing that instead of taking a well-needed break, she was still back at the station with Mary-Margaret.

"Henry?" David's curious tone pulled Emma's attention away from her thoughts on the knife and the jewellery box, and she frowned when she saw Henry sat on the bottom step in the hallway of the apartment complex. "What are you doing here?"

"I have proof." He stated, and although Emma knew what he meant, David looked totally bewildered. "That Regina framed Miss Blanchard. This is how she got into the apartment."

Henry pulled a huge keychain from his pocket, dozens of identical keys hanging from it, and jangled them in front of her and David. "Did you steal those from Regina's office?" she asked, recognising them from her own illegal search of Regina's office only a couple of weeks previously. "You know what they're used for?"

"Yes." Henry said with a pleased grin, standing from his perch and leading Emma and David up the stairs to the loft. "The book said they could open any door."

David, although familiar with Henry's storybook, was still unused to the boys unwavering belief in his theory, and Emma met his bemused expression with a sheepish smile and strict, silent instruction not to say anything.

"There's no way they'll even fit in the lock." Emma pointed out, because all of the keys in Henry's hand were used for old-fashioned lever locks and there wasn't even a chance they'd fit into the narrow key-hole in Mary-Margaret's apartment door. "They're not even the right type."

"We have to try." Henry insisted, and David and Emma watched as Henry tried a selection of keys, none of them working.

"See?" Emma said, although she tried to look disappointed when Henry turned back to look at her. "What did I tell you? Come on, Henry. I know you want to think the answer to everything is in Operation Cobra-"

"It is!" Henry interrupted, and Emma exhaled loudly. She didn't want to take the Operation away from him, she  _liked_ it when he wasn't talking about something totally unbelievable. "Do you have any other explanation for what's happening to Miss Blanchard?"

"Sometimes the real world needs to come first." Emma told him, aware that David was standing beside them with a confused frown.

"Just try one more." Henry insisted, pressing the key ring into Emma's hand. She glanced back at David, who shrugged, and then she prized a single key off the ring. For a second, she just held the key in front of the keyhole, but then she felt a strange shudder go through her and then, as if the key was magnetic, she felt a pull towards the lock, the key sliding inside and when she twisted her hand, she heard the click of the door unlocking.

"What the hell?" she whispered, drawing the key back and glancing between it and lock. It shouldn't have fit, but she couldn't deny that the door was open and it had been the key in her hand that had done that.

"Do you believe now?" Henry asked, but Emma  _couldn't_.

She'd seen Henry try enough keys to be sure that it wasn't any key that could open the apartment, but they did have proof that Regina had a method of entering Mary-Margaret's home. She  _could_ have sneaked in, and even if Regina  _hadn't_  been behind the frame job, someone else might've known about it and used the same key.

"I believe one key works." she admitted, her hand clenching into a fist when David reached out to take the key from her. "I  _believe_  that it's proof that someone could have framed Mary-Margaret. Not so sure if it's proof we can use. And finally, I think that anyone can get into our home."

"Well, I'll fix that." David said, his arms folded across his chest and a determined look fixed on the door.

Emma left him to it, steering Henry away from the loft and starting to walk with him back to the mayor's home. A key allowing Regina, or anyone else, access to Mary-Margaret's home made sense, especially with the stolen jewellery box. It wasn't that that was upsetting her.

The keys were identical, but when she'd held the key in her hand, she'd felt something stir through her and then the door had  _opened_. She couldn't even think of a logical explanation, and she  _hated_ the lack of answers.

There had to be some answer that she was missing, something that she just couldn't think of right now, with so many other things on her mind.

She dropped Henry off with a goodbye hug, but then after that she didn't want to go back to the loft. There was something discomforting about the knowledge that Regina could have entered the loft at any time, for who knows what reasons, and something even more unsettling about the way she'd felt with the key in her hand.

The long way back to the loft was via the docks, and she felt far calmer when she paused by the sea, taking in long, deep breaths and allowing the view of the low sun reflecting in the small ripples of the water to wash over her and calm her.

She'd always loved the sea.

Emma didn't need to return home, she just needed a break, and she felt her worries start ebb away when she took a seat on one of the benches lining the dock. She drew her leather jacket more tightly around her body and looking out towards the horizon.

As much as she cared for Henry, it was days like this when Emma wondered if things would be easier if she'd never come to Storybrooke. Boston had been lonely, but it had been  _easy_. She hadn't had the weight that came with trying to protect someone she cared for, the anxiety that she would mess it up, she  _always_ messed things up, and Mary-Margaret would end up incarcerated and David would be left alone.

Back in Boston, she never wondered what would happen when she failed.

She glanced around the empty dock, and when she saw no one around, she took in a shaky breath and allowed her eyes to fall closed, a shiver running through her when she felt the cool breeze passing over her as it blew across the docks.

"Swan?" Emma's eyes opened slowly, rubbing her eyes quickly as though that would hide her exhaustion, and then she turned to see Killian Jones standing near the bench, shifting anxiously from side to side.

"I'm really not in the mood to talk about anything." she said quietly, glancing back at the horizon until she realised that he had moved to stand in front of her. "Especially not what happened yesterday."

"I wasn't here to talk." Jones said, the volume of his voice matching hers. "I saw you from my cabin and I know it's cold."

"So?" Emma asked, her voice fading when he held out a steaming mug of what she assumed was hot cocoa.

"It's nothing like Granny's but it should warm you up just the same." He said, and when he smiled at her, it was the usual soft smile that Emma hadn't expected to ever see again, and for a second Emma thought that the horizon behind him made his eyes look even bluer. "I just wanted to cheer you up and I thought a hot cocoa was more likely to work better than my presence."

She swallowed, reaching to take the drink, her fingers brushing against his, and then cradling it in her hands, the mug warming her. When she glanced down at it, a bemused smile crossed her face when she saw the word 'Captain' written across it.

When she looked back up, Jones was already walking away. For a second, and it  _was_ only a second, she considered calling out to him, calling him back and having him hold her again, but she didn't.

Instead, she closed her eyes again and took a sip of the hot cocoa. It was more watery than Granny's, with a bit too much whipped cream, but he'd remembered cinnamon, and that meant more to her than she had expected, smiling slightly into the drink.

She hadn't known she needed anything until he'd brought the hot cocoa to her, but she suddenly felt so much better.

Part of her admitted she felt better because she'd seen him. A day with him was always better than one without.

She wanted  _something_ with him. She'd only spent a couple of days without him since their first kiss a week before, and each of those days had ended with her missing him, sending him texts just because she wanted some sort of contact.

Emma still didn't know what she could cope with, but she was starting to think that she needed to think of a way to be with him. A way that didn't mean too much, that she could stop if it became more than she could handle.

She ignored the part of her that said that maybe it already was.

Because with the sun starting to set behind the horizon and the hot cocoa warm in her hands, Emma didn't care. She had an hour or so before she needed to return to Mary-Margaret, and she was going relax for as long as she could.

And Killian Jones had somehow known what she needed to do that, had taken the time to make her hot cocoa without any prompting and had given it to her without any expectations for anything else. That meant something, although she couldn't allow herself to figure out what. Not yet.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you so much for the kudos/comments/bookmarks, and of course, thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 18**

It was dark when Emma finally left her seat at the docks, the hot cocoa long finished and her feet numb in her boots. She liked the numbness, finding it a pleasant distraction from everything else, but when it passed nine pm, Emma knew she had to return back to the station to remind Mary-Margaret of her upcoming arraignment.

She took Jones' mug with her, reluctant to knock on his door and give it back to him when that could only lead to questions and caring glances that she was in no way equipped to deal with. Besides, with everything else that was going on, with Mary-Margaret's freedom on the line, she couldn't allow herself to be side-tracked by her confusion over Killian Jones.

However, when she arrived at the station and unlocked the station door, she was horrified to see the cell door open and Mary-Margaret nowhere in view.

Emma swallowed anxiously, hurrying across the room to the cell and looking for anything that would explain Mary-Margaret's disappearance. The teacher  _couldn't_ be missing, not with her arraignment the next day where she would be pleading innocent to the charges levelled against her.

It would be hard for  _anyone_ to believe her innocent when she'd fled from jail. Innocent people didn't run, and Emma couldn't understand why Mary-Margaret had.

She checked the back room, even though she was certain Mary-Margaret wasn't there, and then Emma collapsed onto the couch beside the cell.

Maybe she should call David, except there was a part of her that was reluctant to trust him with such information. She hated that such doubts existed, but Emma was well aware of what she had been willing to do for a man she loved, what she  _had_ done. The bond between Mary-Margaret and David was already far stronger than the one she shared with Neal back when she chose to help him, so she  _couldn't_ trust that he'd not been part of the ill-conceived escape plan.

As tired as she was, Emma knew that she had to find Mary-Margaret and bring her back to the cell before everything escalated and looked even worse. And if people  _did_ find out, then Emma would much rather lose her job than her friend.

She made some strong, bad-tasting coffee and downed a few cups of it, needing to feel more awake, and then she dug out the betamax recording from the security cameras, hoping that she'd get to see exactly what had happened during the few hours since she'd left Mary-Margaret alone at the station.

Fast-forwarding through the rest of the day was a struggle, as things often were with technology in Storybrooke, but she stuck with it, pausing the video when she spotted someone she didn't recognise wandering into the room.

She checked the timestamp, frowning when she realised that whoever it was had crept into the station just as Emma and Regina were interrogating Mary-Margaret. Someone had known she would be occupied and the main room of the station would be empty and had taken the opportunity to sneak inside and leave  _something_ in Mary-Margaret's cell, under the teacher's bed.

The angle made it difficult to make out the man's face, especially with the top hat he had perched on his hand, an odd outfit for something requiring stealth and yet sufficient enough to make it impossible to identify him.

But someone had purposefully left  _something_ in Mary-Margaret's cell, and the video showed that she then used it to escape only an hour or so before Emma had returned. David wouldn't have attempted something so complicated to free her, so it had to be an attempt to make Mary-Margaret appear guilty.

Perhaps it was David's mystery man.

She didn't have the time to think it through, not when she needed to find Mary-Margaret, so Emma just stuffed one of the 'Have You Seen This Man' posters into her pocket and ran out to her car. She couldn't let Mary-Margaret get too far away. Not if she had any hope of making sure Mary-Margaret's life returned to normal.

~~~*~~~

Emma had driven towards the town line, assuming that Mary-Margaret would be trying to get out of Storybrooke. She had forgotten that it was further to the town line than expected, the path she'd taken winding along the edge of the woods, fog pouring out from between the trees.

She was too busy thinking that Mary-Margaret could hardly have gotten much further on foot to see a man wandering along the side of the road, only narrowly avoiding hitting him when she finally glanced up at the road and caught sight of his silhouette on the path just beside her.

She slammed her foot down on the brake, but it wasn't soon enough. The man leapt out of the way, stumbled and then fell into the small ditch that lined the side of the road. Emma cursed under her breath and then leapt out of the car, hurrying to offer her hand to the fallen man.

"I'm so sorry!" she said sincerely, huffing in surprise when he reached up to rest his weight on her arm and lever himself back to his feet. "Are you okay? I didn't see you there."

"I think so." The man said, and even with her car headlights beaming across the road, the fog and the darkness made it impossible for her to get a clear view of his face. "I'm just not used to sharing the road with cars so late at night. You're the Sheriff, aren't you?"

Emma scowled slightly, wondering how he could make out her features when she couldn't see anything distinctive. "Yeah."

"Well, what brings you out here in the middle of the night?" He asked, and Emma could make out a strangely knowing tone to his voice that immediately meant she did not want to let him out of her sight.

"Nothing to worry about." She said, tilting her head slightly and fixing him with a calculating stare, wanting to try and see as much of his face as she could. She had to know if she recognised him. "I'm just looking for a lost dog."

"Well, I hope you find it."

"Thanks." Emma commented, her eyebrows creasing together when he began to limp away, obviously dragging his right leg and resting all of his weight on the other leg. It was  _too_  much of a limp, something inside of her chiming the same way it always did when someone lied. "Oh, you're hurt."

She hid the smirk when he turned around, plastering on a concerned expression instead, just in case he could see her. "No, I just twisted my ankle." He said, trying to stand normally and then very dramatically stumbling and then balancing on his left leg. "I live just a mile down the road. I'll make it okay."

"No, no." Emma protested, rushing over to him and offering him her arm, refusing to let him walk away before she got a chance to see his face. "Let me drive. I insist."

"Thank you." He said, resting his arm across her shoulder instead of taking her arm and Emma huffed slightly but led him back towards the passenger seat of the Bug. "I'm Jefferson."

"Emma." She felt him nod in response and then she helped him into the seat. "Just tell me the directions and you'll be home in a few minutes."

It only took a few minutes to reach his home, Jefferson only needing to give her one direction. They turned off the main road out of town only just before they reached the town boundary, driving up a narrow road to a huge manor. Emma gaped up at it as she drew the car to the base of the stone front steps.

"Wow." Emma breathed, parking the car and then hurrying round to assist Jefferson. "This is your house? It looks more like a hotel. You must have a huge family."

"Nope." Jefferson said, causing Emma to frown when she heard a slight hint of misery in his tone. "It's just me."

The porch light turned on just as they reached the top step, and Emma turned to look at Jefferson, finally able to see his face. He was smiling at her, but Emma was more interested in the way his hair was styled and the scarf tied around his neck, and although it wasn't a particularly close resemblance, he looked more like David's description of the mystery man than anyone else she had seen around town.

"Do you want to come in?" He asked, unlocking the front door and opening it to show Emma a long white hallway. "It's cold out and I'm sure you could use some tea."

Emma swallowed, suddenly feeling far more uneasy than she had only minutes before, but she gave him a grateful nod and allowed him to lean on her as they walked through his home into a large sitting room. "Your house really is amazing. I didn't even know there was a house  _here_."

"I prefer to keep to myself." Jefferson told her with a bitter smile. "Now, make yourself comfortable. I'll bring you some tea and perhaps a map to help you find your lost dog?"

"That would be great." She said with a forced smile. He nodded and limped away, and Emma watched him leave. When the door closed behind him, Emma dug the wrinkled poster out of her jacket pocket and stared down at it.

It wasn't the most accurate drawing of Jefferson, but she could see enough of him in the drawing to know that it was him.

Emma slipped out of the room, tip-toeing along the corridor and peering into the many rooms. Most of them were lavishly furnished but lacked a personal touch, the rooms feeling empty despite all the decoration. There was nothing to suggest Jefferson might have  _known_ Kathryn, let alone murdered her, but in such a large house, it made sense that there were places he could have hidden any evidence.

She didn't have much time, not when Jefferson was bound to return to the sitting room and find her gone, and she started throwing doors open almost desperately, rummaging quickly through the rooms to find  _anything_ that implicated him.

But when she opened one door, she felt shock spreading through her body when she saw Mary-Margaret, her mouth gagged and her wrists and ankles tied to a wooden chair.

"What is going on?" Emma breathed, hurrying over to her friend and digging her nails into the ropes, trying to untie Mary-Margaret. "Did Jefferson do this?"

Mary-Margaret shook her head, a few tears escaping, and Emma reached up to tug the cloth out of Mary-Margaret's mouth, a loud sob breaking from the teacher's lips when she could finally make a sound. "Emma, thank God." she cried, her hands stretching out towards Emma and before returning to the ropes, Emma gave her a brief, slightly uncomfortable hug. "I didn't know what to do. I- I thought I'd never see you or David again. That I'd end up like Kathryn."

"I won't let that happen." Emma promised, finally prizing one knot apart. "But how did he even get you?"

"I was in the woods, trying to get away." Mary-Margaret explained, the words muffled slightly by her heavy breaths. "This man appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me. Why are  _you_ here?"

"I've been trying to find you. You escaped, remember?" Emma told her. "Jefferson - the man who took you - he's the one who put whatever it was into your cell. I don't know why, but he must have manipulated everything so it looked like you were behind Kathryn's murder. I guess he wanted you to escape because if you ran, you'd have looked guilty."

Mary-Margaret's head fell forward, a look of despair on her face. "I didn't think of that."

"Well, it doesn't matter now anyway." Emma said, the ropes falling to the ground, and then she dug her phone from her pocket. "You need to get out of here. Go back to the station and back to your cell."

"Aren't you coming with me?" Mary-Margaret asked, standing up and rubbing her hands carefully along the red burns left by the ropes. "You can't stay here. Not with this  _man_."

"I have to find evidence that he's guilty of Kathryn's murder." Emma told her, starting to compose a text telling David the directions to the manor. "I won't be alone. I'm asking David to come here and then, once we find something, you're free."

"Is that really a good idea?" Mary-Margaret asked, taking Emma's hand in hers and looking desperately up at her. "Can't you come back  _with_ David, instead of waiting here alone?"

"I can't leave this place. Once Jefferson finds out you're gone, that I've freed you, he'll get rid of the evidence and there'll be nothing to show that you're innocent." Mary-Margaret blinked, horrified. "Now let's get you out of here before he finds us."

"Too late."

It was Jefferson. Mary-Margaret shrieked and staggered away from Emma, who quickly sent the unfinished text to David, turned on the voice recorder on her phone, and then spun to face the man. He was blocking the doorway, a dangerous smirk on his face.

"I've called for backup." Emma warned him, but Jefferson rolled his eyes and took a small step closer. "They'll be here soon."

"You haven't called anybody." He stated confidently, taking another step closer and forcing the two women further into the room. "I would know. Besides, you don't want anyone to know you're here, which means that nobody does. Now tie her back up, and maybe I'll give you the chance to get a few answers."

Emma clenched her jaw but did as he said, leading Mary-Margaret back to the chair and wrapping the ropes around her wrists, enough to keep her in place, but not tight enough to hurt, and then she placed the gag in her mouth.

"It's going to be okay." Emma promised quietly, wiping a few tears away before they could fall from Mary-Margaret's eyes. "I will make sure of that."

She turned away from her friend and inhaled deeply. "Now are you going to give me some answers?"

"Once you've done something for me." Jefferson stated, stepping aside so she could walk through the door, his hand closing around her upper arm as she passed him.

He dragged her down the hallway into another room and then pushed her roughly into an uncomfortable wooden chair. Emma scowled up at him, reaching out to run her finger along the variety of haberdashery spread across the table, twisting to see dozens of top hats on shelves lining the walls.

"What the hell?" Emma asked, picking up a pincushion and then dropping it derisively back to the table. "What are you going to do to me? Blind me with a needle?"

Jefferson chuckled, sitting across from her, his arms resting on the back of the chair. "Blinding you wouldn't really help me now, would it?"

"Look, I don't know what you think you're doing, but if you hurt my friend, I  _swear_ I'll make you regret it." She snarled, plucking a needle from a nearby spool of thread and pointing it towards him, grimacing when he just laughed again.

"Hurt her?" He repeated. "Oh no, Sheriff. I'm saving her life."

"Forgive me if I don't believe that." Emma muttered angrily. "She'd have been fine if you hadn't given her the key to escape her cell. I don't see how keeping her tied to a chair is in any way  _helping_."

"Don't play stupid." Jefferson spat. "We both know what happens when people try to leave Storybrooke."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her heart racing at his words, although she wasn't sure why. "When people try to  _leave_?"

"The curse." Jefferson said, and he sounded so serious that Emma snorted. Did he really believe in everything Henry spoke of? The curse and the evil queen and the uncrossable town line? From the look on his face, he did. "The one keeping us all trapped. All except you, of course."

"Have you been reading Henry's book?" Emma said through a forced laugh, her grip on the needle tightening when the man stood back up and walked around the table, back towards her. "You know they're just stories?"

"Henry? You mean the Queen's father?"

Emma frowned at him, because that was the weirdest question she'd heard in a very long time, although this whole evening had rapidly become the strangest thing to  _ever_ happen to her, and there were no signs of it getting any better.

"No. I mean Henry, the mayor's adopted kid."

"Oh, Henry." Jefferson said knowingly, and Emma scowled. He shouldn't have even heard about her son, let alone be familiar with him. "Your Henry. And his book of stories. The ones that you choose to ignore. Maybe, if you knew what I did, you wouldn't."

"If I knew what you did?" Emma repeated, rolling her eyes and finally putting the needle down. As crazy as he was, he didn't seem like he was going to kill her. "And what do you know?"

"Is that one of the answers you want?" Jefferson asked, and Emma stiffened when she felt his hand graze her shoulder and then his cheek press against her hair. "Because you have yet to do anything for me."

Emma bit her lip and jolted away from him, twisting so she could look up at him. "I'm not doing anything for you until I know you're actually going to do what you said."

Jefferson gave her a searching look, one that made her wriggle uncomfortably, and then he shrugged. "I suppose I could tell you what I know about  _you_. What I've found out over the last twenty-eight years I've been  _stuck_ in this house. Day after day, it's always been the same. Until one night when you, in your little yellow bug, rolled into town and made the clock tick and made  _everything_ change." Emma couldn't breath, not when he was talking such  _nonsense_ , when he sounded so  _mad_. "You see, Emma, I know what you refuse to acknowledge. You're special. You brought something special to Storybrooke.  _Magic_. And that's why you can help me."

"You're insane." She breathed, her fists resting on her thighs, her entire body shaking. " _Mad_."

"Because I speak the truth?" Her words seemed to have angered him, his hand pulling at her hair and tilting her head back, leaning over her and baring his teeth as she spoke. Emma met his gaze unflinchingly. "Is that what makes me  _mad_?"

"Because you're talking about magic."

"I'm talking about what I've seen." He snarled. "Perhaps you're the one that's mad."

"Really?" Emma spat, a pleased smirk crossing her face when he backed away slightly, his hold on her hair loosening. "Me? You're the one who  _murdered_ Kathryn. Who  _ripped_ her heart out. I'm pretty sure that doesn't make me the mad one."

Jefferson let go of her, pacing up and down the room for a few minutes, running his hand through his hair. "Do you really think I'm capable of something so cruel?" he asked suddenly and Emma gaped at him. "Because if you do, maybe the question you should be asking is what you can do to help me."

"Did you think I didn't know?" she bit out, surprised when Jefferson shook his head and puffed out an angry breath. "It was you, wasn't it? The last person Kathryn spoke to? To be honest, even if I hadn't already known it was you, I think your actions right now would have made me pretty suspicious.  _Why_ did you do it? Why would you want to hurt Kathryn?"

Emma watched him, hoping her phone was still recording as she watched him clench and unclench his fist, a gleam in his eye that terrified her. "Maybe I was involved." he stated quietly, gazing at her in a way she didn't understand. "Maybe I set up a few things, broke into a few places and left a few misleading clues, but I never ripped out anyone's heart. All I did was what was asked of me. I took the heart I was given. Perhaps the question you should be asking is who would want to hurt me? Who would want to hurt Mary-Margaret?"

She blinked at him, gaping at him as she tried to figure out what -  _who_ \- he was talking about, and then it hit her. With all his talks about the curse, she was suddenly certain who he meant. "Regina?" She breathed, and he nodded furiously. "Really? You're blaming Regina? I mean, I don't like her, but  _this_?"

Jefferson raised an eyebrow, as though she shouldn't be doubting her suggestion. "Our delightful mayor is more than capable of taking a heart. She might even enjoy it."

"You're insane." Emma said again, rolling her eyes and wondering what exactly David was doing because surely he should be arriving soon. "Wait. You offered me tea, you have a room full of top hats and you're completely crazy. You think you're the Mad Hatter."

"My name is  _Jefferson_."

"Okay. You have  _clearly_ glommed onto my kid Henry's thing. But they're just stories." She explained, keeping her voice level even though the longer she spent with him, the less certain she felt about what he was going to do, not that she'd known much to start with. "The Mad Hatter is in Alice in Wonderland. A book. A book I've actually read."

"Stories?" Jefferson scoffed, sitting back down again and rapping his fingerprints against the back of the chair. "Stories? What's a story? Surely when you were in high school, you learned about the Civil War?" Emma nodded. "How? Did you read about it, perchance, in a book? How is that any less real than any other book?"

"History books are history."

"And storybooks are based on what? Imagination?" He asked, and Emma swallowed. Part of her was terrified that he truly believed in what he was saying, and part of her was terrified that if he kept talking with such conviction, he might manage more than what Henry had ever done and actually make her doubt. "Where does that come from? It has to come from  _somewhere_. You know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants some magical solution to their problem, and everyone refuses to believe in magic. Now, what you need to do is get  _this_ to work."

Emma scowled when he tossed a top hat in front of her and looked at her expectantly, as though she should understand what he wanted when all he was doing was proving just how mad he was. "Here's the thing, Jefferson." she said, surprising herself with how calm her voice was. "This is it. This is the real world. There's no such thing as magic."

" _A_ real world." He corrected and Emma blinked at him. "How arrogant are you to think yours is the only one? There are  _infinite_ more. You just have to open your mind. They touch one another, pressing up in a long line of lands. Each just as real as the last. All have their own rules. Some have magic, some don't. And some  _need_ magic. Like this one. And that's where you come in. You and your friend are not leaving here until you make my hat. Until you get it to work."

Emma inhaled shakily, looking more closely at the hat in front of her and noticing it was unfinished. He wanted her to  _make him a hat_? And make it  _work_? What possible thing could he even expect his hat to do? Open a seam somewhere and sing as though it was the Sorting Hat? "And then what?"

"Then I go home."

"Home?" she repeated, an almost hysterical laugh escaping her at how completely out-of-hand things had gotten, the sound getting sharper when she finally noticed the small gun tucked into his belt. "You're  _at_ home. Where else do you want to go? What did Regina do to you to make you a part of all of this insanity?"

"She took away everything I love." Jefferson said, his voice quiet and trembling as though even the thought of what Regina had done was enough to bring him close to breaking. "And she said she'd help me get it back if I did one last favour for her. Take a look."

He gestured towards a golden telescope standing near the window, and Emma tried to hide how her knees were shaking when she stood up. She could handle him in a fight, she felt confident of that, but he had a gun and was so unpredictable that Emma had to admit she felt more shaken than she had during other confrontations with bail jumpers.

But she made it to the telescope and leant down to peer through it, feeling unsettled when she saw it was pointing towards the window of a family home. The room was empty, as she would have expected so late at night, but she could make out a picture on the wall, of a family of three, although any further details were indistinct.

"Whatever you're trying to show me, it's too late." She told Jefferson, refusing to move from the telescope and waiting for him to make his way to her. If he was going to try anything, she was certain the telescope would be of use against him, and right now, it was the only weapon she had. "That family. They're probably in bed."

"Well, they have a little girl." Jefferson began, taking a few small steps towards her. "Her name is Grace. Here, it's Paige. But it's Grace. My Grace. Do you have any idea what it's like to watch her, day in and day out, happy with a new family? With a new father?"

"You think she's your daughter?" Emma muttered, her eyes wide. "You think Regina cast this curse and split you up? Took her away from you?"

"I don't  _think_. I know." He spat, standing beside Emma and resting his hand on the window, staring at the silhouette of the house in the distance. "I remember. She has no idea who I am. Our life together, where we come from. I do. That's my curse. Because no matter what Henry thinks, it wasn't as simple as being ripped from our homes and being forced to live in a land where we can  _never_ be happy. It's different for some. My punishment is to be trapped by knowledge, to know that I'm in a land where I'll never belong, where I'll always hold two conflicting realities in my head. Everyone else, they only have one life they remember, real or not, and I would never burden anyone with the knowledge that I have to live with."

"You really think you're cursed?" Emma asked, knowing her lip was trembling now but far too confused and doubtful to hide it. "You think you have two lives in your head and that's just normal, not  _insane_?"

"There are others who know the truth." He snarled, his face only inches from hers. "Regina knows, of course, but I  _know_ there are more. Others who have to live everyday knowing what happened. Knowing that their happy endings were taken from them, that they're stuck in a life they never wanted and watching the days repeat themselves over and over again. I'm just the only one sane enough to try and get away. Is it madness to want that?"

Emma couldn't think of an answer, so instead she just gripped onto the edge of the telescope and tried to decide what to do. She could play along, pretend she believed him and wait until he turned his back and she could knock him out.

A loud chime echoed through the house before she could do anything, her fingers flexing against the telescope when she heard the sound. Jefferson was staring, wide-eyed, at the door to the room, and then he turned back to face her, holding the gun in his hand and pointing it at her face. "Who is at the door?"

"What?" she asked, her stare locked on the weapon instead of him.

He huffed angrily, and then to Emma's surprise, he actually left the room. Emma took a few seconds to attempt to calm down, her heart racing, but as much as she tried, all she could think of was that it was probably David at the door, and Jefferson would be answering it with a gun.

And Mary-Margaret was still tied to a chair a few doors down.

At that thought, she stumbled out of the hat room and headed back towards Mary-Margaret, listening for any sign of struggle elsewhere in the house and just hoping that she wouldn't hear any gunshots.

When she turned the corner, however, it became clear that she wouldn't be hearing anything from the front door, not when Jefferson was waiting outside the room he'd used to trap Mary-Margaret.

"Jefferson." she stammered, her fists clenched at her side and her stare locked on the gun still held tightly in his grip. "Who was at the door?"

Jefferson shrugged and then surged forward, grabbing at Emma and pushing her into the room. Emma fell to the floor, immediately scrambling back to her feet and trying to stand between Jefferson and Mary-Margaret. She didn't stand for long, the man tackling her back to the ground, tugging at her hair when she tried to crawl away.

Emma thrust her elbow back, a crack echoing out when she made contact with Jefferson's face, and she twisted around to see him kneeling behind her, one hand pressed to his nose. She kicked out, knocking him even further away from her, and then she hurried back to Mary-Margaret, the knots she'd tied earlier coming apart much easier than Jefferson's had earlier.

Her fingers paused when she heard the click of a gun, and then she felt Jefferson's hand close around her ankle, his grip painful, and he tugged her away from Mary-Margaret, the carpet burning as he dragged her along it.

Emma wriggled out of his grip, turning to look up at him from the floor, his gun fixed firmly on her and she just met his gaze steadfastly. She refused to let him scare her anymore than he already had, even with the gun pointing steadily at her.

Jefferson slowly raised his free hand, tugging his scarf loose to reveal a red scar circling his entire neck. "Off with his head."

Her jaw dropped, her heart thudding furiously in her chest. His words had been crazy, could have been delusional, but the scar was  _real_ and was there even though it  _couldn't_  be.

And then, to Emma's horror, he stopped pointing the gun at her and aimed it at Mary-Margaret. "Now, you fix my hat and maybe I won't shoot your friend." He hissed, and Mary-Margaret whimpered, the sound muffled by the cloth gagging her. "I really don't want to, but I  _need_ you to fix my hat."

Emma carefully got to her feet. She couldn't make his hat work, she knew that much, and part of her worried what would happen to her when he realised the same, but she would do anything to make sure Mary-Margaret was safe.

She was just about to tell Jefferson that she'd go with him and do her best to make his hat work on the condition that he let Mary-Margaret go when there was a blur of motion and suddenly Jefferson was on the floor, David Nolan holding him down and fumbling with a pair of handcuffs.

Jefferson threw his head back, and Emma winced when she heard a crack as the back of his head collided with David's nose. David stumbled back, both of his hands pressed against his face, and Jefferson took the chance to get away, running past Emma and Mary-Margaret and crashing through the window.

Emma stared after him, but David immediately hurried over to Mary-Margaret, finishing untying her and then wrapping his arms around her, his hand cradling the back of her head and tucking her under his chin.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here." David said, the words thick because of his injury. "I got lost. But I did kick down the front door!"

Emma didn't listen to the rest of their conversation, slowly walking over to the smashed window and peering down, cursing when she saw no sign of Jefferson.

She took in a few deep breaths, finally calming down slightly when she realised the whole encounter with Jefferson was  _over_. Mary-Margaret was safe, David only slightly injured, and hopefully, Emma had enough recorded on her phone for Mary-Margaret's case to be dismissed.

"Are you alright?" Emma asked, when she was sure her words would be steady, turning away from the window to the see the couple still embracing. Mary-Margaret nodded, although she was still shaking. "David, take Mary-Margaret back to the station. I'm going to stay here for a bit and look around. I need to see if there's anything else that might associate him with Kathryn."

David shook his head. "Emma, not after tonight. You need to go home."

"We can't wait." Emma insisted, and David mumbled in agreement, clearly wishing she was wrong. "Wherever Jefferson is, he can always come back and get rid of evidence. We need to do this now."

~~~*~~~

David had eventually returned to Jefferson's home, insisting that Emma needed to get away from the manor, and Emma had been more than ready to return to the loft. She had felt tense, her heart still racing even hours after everything had happened, and even after a long bubble bath, she still felt on edge.

If she'd been in Boston, Emma knew exactly what she would do to calm herself down. She'd have a few drinks before finding release with someone, something she'd done many times before after confrontations with bail jumpers. And right now, with everything that had happened over the previous hours still playing through her mind, she wanted to lose herself. She  _needed_ to.

Emma dressed hurriedly, gave her hair a quick brush and then ran her fingers through it, and then she left the apartment. She was sure she could find someone that she could use to get what she needed, that someone in Storybrooke would be able to give her what she wanted.

Except once she reached the Rabbit Hole and stepped inside, there was no one there she could even consider. She still felt uneasy, agitated, and a few shots of rum didn't help. She ignored Keith when he tried to talk to her, and after glancing around the bar a few more times, she came to the conclusion that she knew exactly who she wanted.

She had  _always_ known, but hadn't allowed herself to consider it. But at that moment, she needed him too much.

And so after finishing the last few drops of her drink, she left the Rabbit Hole and walked straight to the Jolly Roger.

The docks were slightly eerie at night, usually only lit by the soft glow of the candles at the waterside Italian restaurant. However, at well past midnight, all the lights were gone, and Emma could only just make out the shape of the ship rocking gently by the pier.

Emma stumbled over one of the many electricity cables just before she boarded the ship, her hand darting out to rest against the body of the Jolly Roger, and that was enough to make her pause, only for a moment.

Was she really going to go to him? She didn't want a relationship with him, not when she knew she couldn't trust him, and right now, she was only going to him to use him as a distraction. Nothing more. Surely he would know that?

She'd tell him. He deserved that much. And if he refused her, then she'd find a way to get the release she needed without him, although she hoped, desperately, that it wouldn't come to that.

With that thought in mind, she marched determinedly across the ramp onto the deck of the boat, ignoring how she was familiar enough with the layout to avoid the wires that she knew were strewn across the ship, and then rapped loudly on the door leading to the lower deck.

There wasn't even a sound, nothing that even suggested Jones was moving around below deck, so she thumped her fist against the door a few times, the door rattling slightly in its frame, only stopping when she heard shuffling behind it.

She bit her lip in anticipation when she finally saw him, his hair ruffled and his eyes rimmed with a faint smudge of his usual eyeliner. He blinked, raising his hand and his stump to rub at his eyes, and when his eyeliner looked even more smudged when he drew his arms away, Emma could only find it adorable.

Emma figured she should probably say something, but he spoke before she had the chance. "Emma?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep. "If you're returning my mug, you've come at a rather odd time."

"Oh, er, I don't have your mug." Emma said, suddenly feeling more nervous than she'd felt in years, especially when it came to sex. And that was all this meeting was going to be. "I'm not here for that."

"Then why are you here?"

"I just had a really bad day." She admitted quietly, her breath hitching when he stepped closer and fixed her with a stare full of so much concern that she could hardly believe he was looking at her like that. But even on a normal day, when she wasn't wanting him, she could never understand the way he looked at her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his head canting to the side and his hand hovering only millimetres from her arm, as though he wanted to touch her but wouldn't. "If you want to talk, then-"

"I don't want to talk." She stated, swallowing loudly and then shifting closer, the small movement moving her arm close enough to brush against his fingers. "I just need someone."

Emma didn't give him a chance to ask any more questions, disregarding the way his brows were furrowed in confusion as she crossed the small distance between them and pressed her lips to his, her hand grazing up his arm to tangle in his hair and hold him to her.

The kiss didn't last long, because Killian pulled back before she could deepen it, his blue eyes searching hers for something Emma knew wasn't there. He exhaled shakily, his hand cupping her cheek and Emma let him gaze at her until he was satisfied, until he was ready to talk. "Emma, what is this?"

"I'm not going to make this more than it is. Right now, I just need someone and you're the only one in Storybrooke that I… can count on to keep this between us." She breathed, and she hated the way his face fell, his jaw tensing at her words. Maybe he'd have been less upset if she'd told the truth, if she'd admitted that she only needed him, that she'd come close to admitting that, despite everything, she trusted him enough to come to him instead of finding refuge in a stranger. But she couldn't tell him that. "I know this isn't what you wanted but I'm sorry. This is all I can give you. Besides, I'm sure you'll soon realise that you want nothing more of me anyway."

"I'd like to prove you wrong." He murmured, his voice hoarse, but he didn't shrink away when she inched closer, when she rested her hands on his chest and leaned into him. "How could I not want more of you?"

"I think I'll be proving you wrong first." she mumbled, because he couldn't be saying things like that when this was meant to mean nothing. "I just need to  _feel_ you."

Killian frowned, clearly trying to make a decision, and it took painfully long before he did anything, Emma almost considering backing away, but then he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. It was far too gentle, so Emma tugged him closer and held him to her, whimpering slightly when he surged into action, his hand running down her side and then hauling her against him, lifting her so that she needed her legs around his waist in order to keep kissing him.

And  _this_ was what she needed, except at the same time, it really  _wasn't_.

He was stumbling with her down the hall to his room, but Emma was preoccupied, thinking of how he felt so good against her, how she could feel his kisses throughout her entire being, but it wasn't enough. It felt  _distant_ , as though they were just going through the motions, and it  _would_ have been fine with anyone else, good even, but Emma knew how much he could make her feel, how much his kisses could burn, and his current embrace felt different.

Part of her wanted to say something, except it wasn't the time for words.

When they fell onto his narrow bed together, his body crashing down upon hers and forcing a heavy breath out of her, she realised that, as much as she wished she could believe otherwise, this was  _more_ than she wanted. At the same time, she had never believed she could want anything as much as she wanted him.

But he was still distant, and Emma didn't know how to change that without saying something and turning what was meant to be a one-night thing into something  _more_.

It was only when he started trailing his lips down the column of her neck, his warmth of his hand scalding her when he started palming her breast, that Emma whimpered, his name - Killian - falling from her lips, because as impersonal as she wanted this to be, it wasn't the same as any other night she had shared with someone.

He raised his head, his eyes dark as he stared at her and then he rested his forehead to hers, each puff of breath teasing her lips, and she raised her head to try and kiss him, to feel oblivion again, but he drew back. "Why me, Emma?"

She swallowed, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, and she knew she couldn't brush the question aside, not with him so close and looking at her as though she meant everything. "I couldn't want anyone else."

And he was kissing her again, and the same fire was roaring through her veins as it had only a couple of days before, and she had to clutch him closer because every single movement was setting her aflame, especially once they had rid each other of their clothes and she could feel every slight brush of his skin against hers.

He had paused and looked at her, shaking his head and blinking and looking so  _awestruck_ that Emma didn't know what to do except kiss him slowly and try to show him, without words, how much it meant to her to feel so cherished.

And then it was everything. Killian brought her crashing around his fingers twice before he moved away from her, just for a moment, to hurry around his room and find a condom somewhere. He was only away from her for a second, a very cold second, and then they were pressed together again and she never wanted it to stop, not when he was filling her and they were rocking together, his breath warm and heavy against her ear.

Afterwards, when they had finally fallen together, she couldn't let him move away. Not when she'd never felt  _anything_ like him before, not when he was still pressing light kisses to the curve of her neck, her shoulder. He had a lurid red mark marring his collarbone, one she'd given him, and she was certain she had a matching one on the swell of her breast, and Emma knew that once he moved off her, she was going to have to leave.

She had to.

Yet, when he first moved, leaving the bed in order to clean himself up, Emma couldn't bring herself to leave. It was only when he returned to the bed, clambering over her to take the small space beside the wall and then reaching out as though to take her into his arms, that she forced herself to move.

She sat up, twisting so her legs were dangling over the edge of the bed, and although a large part of her didn't want to leave, wanted to feel what it would be like to stay in the arms of someone who  _wanted_ her, she knew she couldn't.

"What's wrong?" His voice was quiet, and she only heard it because his fingers had brushed against the small of her back and pulled her attention back to him. "Why did you come here tonight?"

"I can't stay and tell you." she replied, leaning down to find her bra and then starting when she felt him brush her hand aside and close the clasp for her. Did he  _want_ her to go? "I can't stay."

"You don't have to stay." He mumbled, and she shivered when she felt a hot kiss at the base of her neck. "Not if you don't want to. But I want to know what happened, if you're willing to share."

Emma wasn't sure if she  _was_  willing, but then he brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck again and she would have done anything to stay with him just a little longer. "It's complicated." she said, because although she was going to tell him, she hardly wanted to relive the entire thing. "The man who took Kathryn, well, he found me. Or I found him. Either way, it wasn't exactly pleasant?"

"He hurt you?" Killian asked, his voice hard, an undercurrent of fury boiling through it. "Do you feel like disclosing his identity?"

"He…" Emma paused, knowing that as the Sheriff, she really shouldn't tell him. "He thought he was the Mad Hatter."

There was silence, a quiet that felt like it lasted too long because she had expected Killian to say something but instead she just felt him sit up and move so his legs were either side of her, her back pressed to his chest and his head nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

"He wanted me to make his hat  _work_ , as insane as that sounds, and he held a gun to me and when David appeared and we finally had the upper-hand, he jumped out of the window and he vanished." she stated, relaxing slightly into Killian when his arms finally wrapped around her waist, Emma instinctively reaching to lace her fingers with his. "He believed in Henry's theory. In his curse. And I mean,  _really_ believed. He thought I had magic, that I could somehow send him home. Which is crazy."

Once again, the silence felt too long and she fidgeted uncomfortably, her movements stopping only when he seemed to decide that kissing a path along her spine was a better use of his time than answering. "If the curse was real, what would you do?" he asked suddenly, the words spoken into her skin. "Would you want to break it?"

For a second, she considered ignoring the question, because it was hardly something she needed to answer, but she didn't mind discussing silly hypothetical situations with him. Not as long as it meant she could keep talking to him. "I don't know." she answered quietly, and his hand flexed in hers. He seemed almost frozen, his lips still pressed to her skin but his entire being unmoving. "I wouldn't like to be responsible for everyone's happiness."

"You wouldn't have to do it alone." He whispered, and Emma  _had_ to see his face, turning her head so her nose was brushing against his cheek, his head resting on her shoulder. "I'd help you."

"And why would you do that?"

He turned slightly so his lips could slide across hers, just for a moment, and then she felt him shrug. "Isn't the pleasure of your company incentive enough?"

And that was too much. She swallowed nervously and then twisted in his arms, nudging him back towards the centre of the bed and climbing into his lap when there was space, straddling him. "You already have that." she murmured coyly, one hand on the back of his neck as she pulled him into a deep kiss, groaning into him when she felt his hand tangling in her hair and tugging her head back, exposing her neck to more of his kisses.

"Do I?" She wasn't entirely certain if he'd really said that, but if he had, that was something she definitely didn't want to answer.

So she nudged him onto his back, undid her bra and soon she had him distracted enough that she wasn't even certain he was capable of words.

She didn't give him a chance to leave the bed and return, sliding out after him and then dressing quickly. But she let him follow her to the door and she leaned into the light, sweet kiss he bestowed upon her lips as goodbye, a kiss that seemed utterly at odds with everything they'd done that night.

"I've missed being with you, Swan." He muttered against her lips, and there was no part of her that wanted to brush the words away.

It had only been a few days, but she'd missed him too and she was too exhausted, boneless and sated to deny it.

But it wasn't enough to make her stay.

~~~*~~~

Even though Emma had returned from the Jolly Roger just after five am, she had managed to claim a couple of hours of sleep before waking up to walk Henry to school. However, the sleep had hardly been restful. Her dreams were fuzzy, but Emma knew she had dreamt of Killian's touch, of how he felt surrounding her, inside her. That she'd dreamt of Jefferson's words and his total belief in what he was saying.

She'd woken up cold and shaking, and although she'd tried to return to sleep, her attempts had been in vain. So instead, she got up and got dressed, ignoring how her eyes were rimmed with red and she looked utterly exhausted.

She  _felt_ exhausted. Although part of her ached pleasantly after her activities with Killian only hours previously, she knew that the more unpleasant twinges that she felt every time she moved were from the far less enjoyable fight she'd had with Jefferson.

The apartment was empty, and Emma assumed that David was probably already at the station with Mary-Margaret, that he'd probably never left her other than to search Jefferson's home. She planned to join them soon, especially with the arraignment happening that morning, but for the moment, she did not want to think about the case.

Instead, she walked to the Elementary school, knowing that Henry's bus would be arriving soon. After everything Jefferson had said before, words she couldn't forget, she wanted to ask him about the Mad Hatter.

She waved him over when he stepped off the yellow school bus, warmth filling her when he beamed at her and ran over to her side.

"Emma?" he asked, sitting beside her on the bench and letting her tuck him under her arm. "I didn't think I'd see you today. Mom said it's Miss Blanchard's arraignment, whatever that is."

"I still have time to see you." She told him, returning his wide grin. "I was actually wondering if you had your storybook with you? Can I see it?"

"Of course I have it." Henry said with a shake of his head. "Why do you want it?"

"I'm just curious about something." She said, deciding it was probably better for Henry to remain oblivious about everything that had happened with Jefferson. Not only was it something that Emma would rather not talk about, she didn't want Henry to take the beliefs of a crazy man as evidence for his theory. Instead, she just waited for Henry to pull the book out of his bag and then, once it was laid across her lap, she flipped through the page in search for anything similar to Alice in Wonderland.

"What is it?" Henry asked as she finally found the page she needed. It was a full-page illustration of the Mad Hatter, his eyes wide and crazed. "What?"

"Nothing." Emma breathed, feeling slightly confused when she thought she could  _see_ Jefferson in the image. "It's nothing."

"Emma?"

"Do you mind if I keep this?" Emma said, suddenly desperate to actually read through the book. To sit and read the strange versions of the stories, to look at the illustrations and see if she recognised everyone inside the pictures, or if she was only seeing Jefferson because, after the night before, part of her was wondering if the curse was true.

Two people believing so firmly in one theory, even though one was crazy, was enough to make her uncertain about her own disbelief in the curse.

"Absolutely."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! I hope you enjoy the chapter. Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this for me!

** Chapter 19 **

Although Emma had felt better when she was talking with Henry, walking to the Sheriff station brought with it a bone-wearying tiredness. She'd dealt with that by buying a mocha from Granny's, requesting a couple of extra shots of espresso and hoping that would be enough until she could have some of the strong, disgusting coffee from the station.

She was dreading the arraignment. She'd only ever spoken to Albert Spencer on the phone, and she had to admit that he wasn't someone she'd ever felt the need to meet.

And he looked exactly as she expected, standing outside the locked station with his arms folded and an unconcerned air about him. He was also deep in conversation with Regina, which was something that was unlikely to endear him to her.

"Miss Swan." he said in greeting, looking her up and down before glancing at Regina and raising an eyebrow. "If you needed to sleep in, I'm sure we could have organised the arraignment for later in the morning."

"Not if this is getting done before the deadline." Emma mumbled, having to wait for a few moments for him to look her over again and give her the fakest smile she'd ever seen before he stepped aside to let her unlock the station. "Besides, with the new evidence I found last night, this really shouldn't take too long."

"New evidence?" Regina repeated, her eyebrows raised in shock and Emma nodded, holding the door open for the mayor and DA. "Proving her guilty, I suppose?"

Emma just smiled at Regina, feeling a bit better when the mayor's smirk faltered. When they finally arrived in the main room, Regina halted mid-step, a confused expression flickering across her face for only a moment before she hid it, but it was enough to think that maybe Jefferson hadn't been making things up entirely when he spoke of Regina's involvement.

"I'll bring her through to the interrogation room." Emma said, prompting Regina to follow Mr Spencer to the small room. When it was just Emma and Mary-Margaret in the room, she opened Mary-Margaret's cell.

"She was expecting me not to be here." Mary-Margaret breathed, wringing her hands together and looking at Emma with wide eyes. "So she had to know about the key."

"It looked that way, didn't it?" Emma agreed, leading her friend through the station to the interrogation room and giving her a quick hug before she entered. "Now, don't worry. I'm pretty sure you'll be free within the hour."

Regina, who was standing by the one-way window, scoffed, clearly having overheard Emma's comment. Emma ignored her and watched Mary-Margaret take a seat next to the court-appointed lawyer, an utterly average looking man who seemed utterly terrified by Mr Spencer. Mary-Margaret was tapping her fingers anxiously against the table but didn't seem particularly scared.

After a yawn, Emma dug her phone out from her pocket, searching through it for the recording of Jefferson and hoping she'd got what she needed, the sound of the arraignment muffled by the wall between it and Emma and Regina.

"I'm sure you know what you're being accused of so there's no need to read through the details of the whole case." Mr Spencer said drily, flicking disinterestedly through Mary-Margaret's case file. "I think it's best that we get straight to business. I think, when you're under suspicion of murder, it's understandable we deny you bail."

Mary-Margaret swallowed, her gaze darting to the window as if searching for Emma, even though Emma knew that the teacher couldn't see her through the one-way glass. "That makes sense."

"Now, how do you plead?"

"Not guilty." Mary-Margaret said, and Regina actually laughed, Emma turning a furious gaze towards her. "I did  _not_ kill Kathryn."

And then Emma found the recording, a relieved sigh escaping her when it actually  _existed_ , and she entered the interrogation room without any further delay. "Mr Spencer, I have new evidence that means this case against Mary-Margaret should be thrown out. This was recorded last night."

Mr Spencer said nothing, but just shrugged, letting Emma place her phone on the counter and then raising an eyebrow expectantly. Emma took a deep breath and pressed play, the sound of her conversation with Jefferson echoing through the room.

"Maybe I was involved. Maybe I set up a few things, broke into a few places and left a few misleading clues but I never ripped out anyone's heart. All I did was what was asked of me." Emma paused the recording, raising a challenging eyebrow to Mr Spencer.

"It's hardly a confession." Mr Spencer drawled. "Whoever this man is, he didn't say he killed Kathryn."

"He says he was asked to set up a few things. I doubt Mary-Margaret, if she was the murderer, would have asked someone to set it up so the clues point directly to her." Emma pointed out. "And he  _did_ confess to that. Mary-Margaret wasn't involved."

Mr Spencer's jaw clenched and he looked between her and Mary-Margaret for a long, tense moment and then sighed, a resigned expression crossing his face. "I suppose you're right, Miss Swan. The case is dismissed." He said briefly, and Mary-Margaret sobbed in relief. "However, I have some questions about this accomplice. In particular how you got close enough to this man to get such a recording but were unable to get him into custody. And how it's been days since my employee Kathryn was murdered and yet you have almost nothing. You don't have enough experience to be Sheriff, Miss Swan, you were just lucky enough to be the better option. Do  _better_ , Sheriff."

He strode out, Mary-Margaret's lawyer following him, and the second they were gone, Mary-Margaret smiled brightly, shakily, and pulled Emma into a hug that she didn't entirely know how to react to.

"Thank you, Emma." Mary-Margaret said, as Emma hesitantly returned the hug. "You saved me."

"Right." Emma mumbled, pulling away before it was too much. "I suppose that's one thing I've done successfully then. Now how about letting David know the good news?"

Regina was gone when they left the room.

~~~*~~~

Mary-Margaret and David had seen each other from opposite sides of the street and run into one another's arm, like they were in a cheesy movie, and Emma had decided that was a sign for her to leave the two of them alone and start looking for Jefferson.

Except she knew  _nothing_. David had checked the manor house during Mary-Margaret's arraignment, and it was clear Jefferson hadn't returned. No one in town seemed to know him either, and Emma felt like the entire case had come to a sudden stop.

Albert Spencer had been right. She didn't know what she was doing, and even against Sidney, she had only  _just_ won the race for the position.

With those miserable thoughts clouding her mind, Emma had picked up yet another coffee from Granny's and retreated to the docks, sitting on the bench that looked out over Killian's ship.

She honestly couldn't believe it hadn't even been twelve hours since she had forgotten about the case and Jefferson and just lost herself in him and how he felt against her, and,  _god,_ she was seriously exhausted if she was daydreaming about Killian instead of doing her job.

And so, Emma did the only thing she could think of and dug Henry's book out of her bag, flipping to the page that started the story of the Mad Hatter.

"What are you doing?"

Emma grimaced and looked up from the book. Was it too much to ask for some time by herself while she tried to figure out everything?

Apparently it was, because even when she ignored him for a few moments, August didn't move away.

"I'm grasping at straws." Emma answered reluctantly, aware that he was already looking over her shoulder at the colourful image.

She was actually looking for answers in a  _fairytale_  book. That was hardly good sheriff material.

And Emma felt like a terrible friend because, for a second, she thought that at least when Mary-Margaret was in jail, she had  _something._

"Still trying to find a way to prove your friend's been framed?" He asked, taking up the space beside her on the bench and then frowning inquisitively at her.

"I actually managed  _that_  about half an hour ago." Emma told him, unable to quell a smile when he grinned at her. "Now I'm stuck trying to find the guy who framed her. I mean, I know who it is but I have no idea how to find him."

"When you say you know who he is," August started, and he sounded strangely hesitant. "Do you mean the Mad Hatter?"

"What?" Emma asked, shaking her head firmly. "No. Because that would be ridiculous. I just believe that  _he_  believes he's the Mad Hatter. And maybe, if he thinks that, he might go somewhere that the Mad Hatter would go and... I am talking utter nonsense.  _God_."

"Makes sense to me." August said with a shrug.

"Well, thanks for saying that but I know I sound crazy." Emma grumbled, slamming the book closed and then rest her head against the back of the chair. "I mean, I'm searching down paths that shouldn't even be considered, because everything else I do just seems to end up being a dead end. I used to think I had these great instincts… superpower, even. Since coming to Storybrooke, I can't say I still feel the same."

"It sounds like you've got a case of writer's block." August joked, nudging Emma's shoulder with his own. "Only without the whole writing part. You know, Emma, when I'm struck by a block, I usually reread what I've done, instead of plow ahead blindly. Sometimes, I find there'll be a little nugget of inspiration left behind."

"Well, you're right about the blind thing." Emma mumbled, turning to get a better look at August. She wasn't entirely sure  _why_ he was offering help, especially because she hadn't really spoken to him since he'd drawn Jefferson for her and David.

Which had only been the day before. It had felt like so much longer.

"Maybe you're right." She admitted, her head in her hands and her fingers rubbing light circles on her temples. "Maybe I need to start over and accept the fact that everything I have so far I only found because Jefferson wanted me to."

"When I start writing, I usually have one idea. And then, in the middle, I may get another idea and things are different." August continued. "When you started this investigation, what was it?"

"A missing person." Emma grinned at him, because August, as much of a stranger as he was, could be surprisingly helpful when he wanted to be. "Then, it became a murder and now it's a cover-up."

"If you had known that then, would you have approached things differently?"

Emma blinked at him and then her eyes widened. If the whole thing had been a set up, if Jefferson had always intended for her to find the box with the heart, then maybe he had left something there by accident that would  _actually_ lead her to him.

"Where are you going?" August called out after her, and Emma realised that she'd gotten up and started to stride away. "Figured something out?"

"To the scene of the crime." She answered, pausing and gaping at him when he jogged to catch up with her. "Just because we found what we thought we needed doesn't mean there isn't anything else there."

"I'll drive." He told her and Emma scowled at him. "Come on, you haven't slept in days and I think the town would probably be better off with an alive Sheriff. And let's be honest. This was my idea."

Emma clenched her jaw, but after the amount of the caffeine she'd already imbibed that morning, she had to admit August had a point. She grumbled a vague agreement, rolling her eyes when August smirked and stepped up to her side, his hand on the small of her back as he started to lead her towards his motorcycle.

"I can get to your bike by myself, thanks." She bit out and August pulled his hand away with an apologetic shrug. "I'm not tired enough to need a hand walking."

~~~*~~~

August parked the motorcycle just beside the toll bridge sign, chuckling in amusement when he saw the 'r' graffitied between the 't' and the 'o'. Emma just raised an eyebrow, because as far as graffiti went, it wasn't exactly the funniest defacement of a sign she'd seen.

"Ruby found the box with the heart right over here," She told him, taking careful steps down the sandy, steep incline to the police tape marking the location. "Just by the shore."

She glanced over her shoulder to August, concern filling her when she saw that he had one hand gripping at his thigh, grimacing as though in pain. He stumbled, but didn't fall and Emma took a few steps back towards him.

"What's wrong?"

That time, it was August's turn to shrug off an attempt to reach out, brushing Emma's hand away before she could rest it on his arm. "Nothing."

"It doesn't seem like nothing." Emma pointed out, although she did walk away from him, returning to the square wooden board that rested over the hole that had once contained the jewellery box. "I can take a look if you want?"

"No, it's okay." August insisted, limping over to Emma's side and watching her as she put on a pair of latex gloves and gingerly shifted the wooden covering a few inches to the side. "It's just a shin splint. I'll walk it off or something."

He started pacing up and down the riverside, his heavy steps surprisingly loud and Emma occasionally glanced back at him in worry. She'd seen him limping before, and for him to be limping again, she had to wonder if there was more wrong with him than just shin splints.

"Sorry I'm not more help." He apologised suddenly as he took a seat on a large, flat rock nearby and stretched his leg out so he could massage it. "I know this whole case must be hard on you."

"That's an understatement." Emma muttered, shifting pieces of dirt around and hoping to find something more incriminating than an empty hole. "But things will get better soon. At least for Mary-Margaret. I mean, soon enough the whole town will know she was framed. They just better have enough decency to apologise to her for all the things they've said over the last few days."

"At least she had you." August pointed out and Emma shrugged. As exhausting as it had been, Emma would do everything all over again if it meant that Mary-Margaret was happy.

But at the same time, Emma was certain her efforts meant far less to Mary-Margaret than David's unwavering confidence in her had. "And David. She had him too."

August sighed. "Look, I don't know you that well, but it seems to me that, aside from Henry, Mary-Margaret's the closest thing to family you've got." Emma shook her head noncommittally and August chuckled. "You know, it's okay for you to admit it."

Emma said nothing, but started to sort through the dirt slightly more ferociously. Mary-Margaret  _was_ the first friend she'd had in a long time, since Lily, and she would always care for her. The teacher and Henry had made her feel more comfortable and settled than she had felt in a very, very long time and they'd led her to others she'd grown to care for, like David and Killian.

Not that she would admit that to August.

Her fingers brushed against something solid and Emma stiffened before carefully brushing the mud and sand away from the object. When the small metal shard was in her hand, she held it up to the sun, hoping to see something that confirmed any of her suspicions, of Jefferson  _or_ of Regina. "August, look."

She heard his heavy steps moving towards her and then he was crouched at her side, squinting at the metal. "What is it?"

"It's a shard." She stated, and August looked unimpressed, raising one eyebrow. "From a shovel, I think. It must've broken off when it hit a rock. If we can find the shovel that it broke off of, maybe we can find Jefferson or even who he's working for."

"You really think he's working for someone?"

"He wasn't lying when he said he didn't rip anyone's heart out." Emma said confidently. As mad as Jefferson had been, he hadn't lied about anything. His beliefs may have been misguided, especially regarding the magic hat she could fix, but he  _had_ believed them.

He'd been honest and knowing that meant Emma wouldn't be satisfied until she found the person behind everything.

"And you know exactly who that is?" August prompted, and Emma bit her lip anxiously. "Regina?"

"It can't be Regina." Emma said stubbornly, even though she knew that if she believed the rest of Jefferson's words, she needed to believe his accusations towards the mayor too. "Henry can't be living with a  _murderer_ , August."

"Wouldn't it be best to make sure?"

Of course it would, but after the set-up Emma had narrowly avoided with Sidney weeks earlier, Emma was reluctant to confront the mayor with only the words of a mad man and a shard of a shovel as evidence. "I'm not jumping to conclusions." She stated. August sighed but seemed to agree. "I'm going to fingerprint it first. I make one wrong move in this and I'm pretty sure Regina will spin it so I can't see Henry. We're going to do this properly."

August nodded, watching as Emma slipped the shovel shard into a small plastic bag. "Do you want a hand with the fingerprinting?"

"I'm pretty sure I can cope." She insisted, starting back up the small incline towards August's motorcycle. "Just drop me off at the Sheriff station and then, if you really are still keen to keep helping me with this, meet me back there in an hour or so."

~~~*~~~

Emma returned to the station feeling more hopeful than she had in a while. Although the day had been better, especially with Mary-Margaret being freed, there were still so many unanswered questions that it was hard to be at all optimistic.

She hadn't used the fingerprinting equipment for weeks after becoming Sheriff, but since Kathryn's disappearance - Emma supposed she should call it murder now - she was becoming a bit too familiar with it. But, if she was going to prove Regina was involved, she wasn't going to go after her on just a hunch.

Emma wasn't even sure if there  _would_ be fingerprints on the shattered end of the shovel, because it wasn't exactly the place you'd hold the instrument, but it was better to check.

"Still busy?" Emma glanced up from the desk, twisting slightly to see Killian standing in the hallway, shifting his weight slightly from side to side and twisting his prosthetic hand.

"Too busy to talk to you." she answered quickly, turning away from him. She hadn't expected to see him after their time together in the early hours of the morning, and it was even more out of the blue for him to show up at the Sheriff's station, clearly looking for her.

Emma heard a bitter chuckle, and although she had intended to start fingerprinting and  _doing her job_ , Killian had sounded so uncertain that she couldn't act like his presence wasn't affecting her.

"Why are you here, Killian?" she asked, not looking at him. "Wasn't it clear that last night was a one-time thing?"

He exhaled loudly and she heard him take a few steps closer to her, but Emma still refused to look at him. Her mind was racing, because as much as she wanted to write their night off as a one-night thing, the way she had  _just_ done, what if she needed him again?

And Emma couldn't be selfish, couldn't just  _use_ him as a way to relax because, before everything had gotten more complicated, she'd valued his friendship.

"Look, I can't say it won't happen again." she admitted, finally turning to see him when she heard him take another step. He was frowning, glancing between Emma and the floor. "And I know I can't just come to you whenever I want. If it  _isn't_ a one-time thing, it can't just be on my terms."

Emma wasn't used to such a conversation, preferring to never encounter her one-night stands again, but she should have  _known_ Killian would be different. She wasn't sure she was saying the right things, but he was still there and still listening, so she kept going. "What do  _you_ want?"

Killian glanced around the Sheriff station and then tilted his head towards the back room, and Emma felt a strange sense of anticipation as he led her to the smaller room. "I have to say, Swan, I've not been able to stop thinking about last night." he said, a small smirk crossing his face when she closed the door, and Emma felt far more at ease now he seemed less nervous and more like his usual self.

Emma wandered towards him, her eyes widening in surprise when he took her hand in his and tugged her gently towards him. And then, with him so near, her eyes fell closed and she took in a deep breath, remembering the night before and how he'd felt pressed against her.

She opened her eyes to meet his familiar soft gaze, his thumb brushing light circles on her arm, and when she smiled at him, he ducked his head to rest his forehead against hers. "Emma, you know what I want, don't you?"

And then he brushed his lips across hers, and it felt like she'd been waiting forever for him to kiss her. She arched into him, her arms looping around his neck and holding him to her as he deepened the kiss, and,  _God_ , Emma wouldn't complain if he never stopped kissing her.

He traced a path down her neck with his lips, his hand flexing against her hip, and Emma  _had_ to make sure he knew that, even without the label of a one-time thing, this, with him, was still just casual. That Emma couldn't do anything more.

"This isn't-" Emma panted, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "You do know this isn't anything more, right?"

His ministrations halted, but he didn't move away. She could feel hot, shaky breaths against her collarbone, and then his head fell forward, his forehead resting against her shoulder. "Is this really all you want?" he said into her skin, sounding utterly wrecked. "Just this? You'd rather have this than what we had before?"

Emma swallowed, part of her regretting that she couldn't give him the answer that she knew he wanted. She reached up to cup his face in her hands, raising his head so he was looking at her, and then she pressed a kiss to his lips, his jaw and then stood on her tiptoes to brush a final kiss just under his ear. "We want each other." she whispered, smiling slightly when she felt him shudder and hold her just a bit closer. "Why does this need to be anything more?"

"You want me?" he repeated, his hand sliding up from it's place on her hip to rest along the lines of her ribs, and when Emma moved away from him in order to nod, he leant forward and stole another quick kiss from her.

"There's no one else for me." Emma admitted, not realising what she'd said until she saw how the corner of his lips was quirked in a smile, a knowing gleam in his eyes that she decided she didn't want to understand.

But, as he had done the night before, when she had sighed his name, he seemed less reserved after her admission. He surged forward, claiming her lips with his, the two of them staggering backwards so that he had her pinned against the counter

And sex on the counter in the back room of the Sheriff's station  _had_ to be a bad idea, but there was no part of her willing to stop it and she definitely didn't regret it afterwards, with him standing between her bare legs and sharing quick kisses with her.

"How are you?" Emma asked suddenly, because it had been  _days_ since they'd talked, and if they were still pressed together and kissing, then surely it didn't count as anything more.

Killian chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose, which was just a bit too much, but Emma only shook her head instead of backing away. She liked being held by him far more than she should. "I'm very good right now, Swan. How about you?"

"Right now? I'm very good too." She told him. "I didn't think anything would be able to distract me away from the case for long enough to take a break, but I guess you proved me wrong."

"I thought Mary-Margaret's release would have made a break possible." He stated, tilting his head curiously. "Or is there more to this that I'm not aware of?"

And right then, Emma just needed to talk about everything she'd been dealing with since the last day she kissed him at the station, since the day Ruby found Kathryn's heart, so she told him everything. He listened to it all, from how she'd found a knife at Mary-Margaret's apartment to how Jefferson had implicated Regina was behind it all.

"Do you think she could be?" Emma asked when she'd finished explaining, noticing how Killian's jaw was tensed and his brow was furrowed. "I hate the thought that Henry's living with someone that people actually think is capable of murder, even if she turns out to be innocent."

"I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I think Regina could definitely be involved." Killian told her with a regretful shrug. "If I knew anything more about this Jefferson, I'd be of more help, but I have to admit that I've never heard his name until you told me."

"You don't need to help me." Emma told him, smiling widely at him when he used his wooden hand to brush her hair over her shoulder. "This is my break. We don't need to talk business."

"But if I could, I would try my hardest to assist you." He promised, kissing her quickly. "Not that you need help. I'm certain that you'll solve everything. However, I truly wish this case wasn't exhausting you."

"It's not-"

"Come on, Swan, I know you haven't slept in days." He interrupted, raising his eyebrows as though he was challenging her to deny his accusations. Emma yawned in confirmation, glancing away when Killian chuckled and then brushed a light kiss to her forehead. "At least not for long enough to feel rested. I promise you though, you're still as beautiful as ever."

"You don't have to say that." Emma said casually, trying to pretend that his words hadn't meant anything, hadn't made her slightly flustered and confused. "We've already had sex."

"Why wouldn't I state the truth?" Killian muttered, brushing a warm kiss to her temple and then rocking against her slightly, which made Emma gasp in surprise. "I find it hard to believe there's anything that would make you appear anything less than beautiful. Not even when you're lacking a few nights' sleep."

Emma rolled her eyes, trying to convince herself that he wasn't as sincere as he appeared, but it was hard when he was still playing with her hair and dropping quick kisses wherever he could. "So you've not been busy with anything that's keeping you from sleeping?"

"Other than you?" Killian teased, and Emma had to chuckle. "Unlike you, I've had a rather easy week since my jaunt in your cell. I've seen Lacey a few times, reorganised some shelves in the shop but nothing particularly memorable."

"Nothing." Emma questioned, taking his hand from its place on her hip and moving it so it rested on her bare thigh. "Not at all?"

"Perhaps one or two things." He admitted with a slight smirk, and then he was kissing her again, although Emma wasn't entirely sure who had initiated it.

Before anything further could happen, even though Emma was starting to want him pretty desperately, she heard someone calling her name from the main room of the station. She shoved Killian away, jumping down from the counter and wrestling her jeans back on, checking quickly to see if her shirt wasn't askew.

"Can you stay back here or something?" she asked quickly, combing her hands through her hair and wincing when she got her fingers caught in a knot, one she was pretty sure had been caused by Killian.

"Who is it?" Killian asked, reaching out to assist her, his fingers gentle as he smoothed out her hair and Emma took a moment to call out that she'd be through in a second.

"August." Emma answered, a laugh escaping her when Killian scowled slightly. "Now just hang around here until it's quiet. August and I will be heading out once I've finished the fingerprinting so you shouldn't be hiding too long."

Killian grumbled, but pressed a kiss to her cheek and stood aside to let her leave.

August was looking down at the fingerprinting equipment with a raised eyebrow. "Am I right in guessing you're not finished?" he asked, and Emma nodded, hurrying over to him and hoping desperately she didn't look as debauched as she felt. "Because I have to say I was hoping you'd have called by now."

"I got distracted." she said vaguely, busying herself by dusting over the small shard and smiling hopefully when it stuck to a few places, marking out the places someone had touched the item. "Now, I just need to run these and hope they're Regina's."

She got the computer running as fast as possible, which wasn't saying much, and then she and August just stood there. Emma couldn't really think of anything to say. He had been very helpful that day, but she still barely knew him.

Just as she was about to say something, the door to the back room opened and Killian stepped out, looking surprisingly put together, a file clasped in his hand. "I've found it." He said, and Emma just blinked at him. "Thanks for the assistance, Sheriff."

He strode out without another word and Emma blinked after him, still entirely thrown by his appearance. He couldn't just walk out with a file, not one that was most likely confidential, and Emma wished he had just stayed hidden like she had requested. But August had an eyebrow raised and was glancing between the two of them as though all his suspicions had been confirmed, and Emma had to play along.

"It was my pleasure." she called after him, wincing slightly when she heard him chuckle.

The computer beeped, and Emma grimaced when she saw the fingerprints were unidentifiable, the same way Jefferson's had been. "Nothing." she said to August, who was still looking after Killian. "Definitely nothing that implies Regina anyway."

"I suppose that explains why your buttons are done up wrong." August stated, and Emma gaped at him and then glanced down at her shirt, scowling up at the chuckling man when it turned out her shirt was fine. "I'm kidding, although I guess that confirms all those rumours I've heard about you and the pawnbroker."

Emma took in a deep breath and decided not to rise to his bait. Whatever rumours were going around, the true relationship between her and Killian was their own business, not the towns.

"Although, Emma, are you really sure you know him?" August asked carefully, and Emma raised her head to gape at him. "From what I know about him, that pawnbroker's into making deals that lead to people losing things they care about."

"Well, I clearly know him better than you." Emma snapped, huffing angrily when August held up his arms as though in surrender. "And, yeah, I'm thankful for all your help today but that doesn't mean you get to comment on the guy I'm with. It's nothing to do with you."

August looked guiltier than Emma would have expected, ducking his head and fidgeting slightly before appearing to shake off whatever it was that had overcome him. He mumbled in agreement, although Emma couldn't make out a single word he said.

"Okay, so we need to find where this shovel comes from." Emma said loudly, deciding that they really shouldn't be talking about her thing with Killian anyway. "Because whoever owns it, if it's not Jefferson, is either someone else he wants framed or someone he's trying to lead us to, seeing as it wasn't him who killed Kathryn."

"And he said Regina made him do it?"

Emma nodded. "My best guess would be that she has the rest of the shovel. although with Jefferson's fingerprints all over this thing, that doesn't mean much. What  _would_ be ideal would be if we found something that connected the two of them without relying on evidence that is most likely planted  _by_ Jefferson.."

"How are we going to do that?"

Emma shrugged. "At the moment, the only thing I can think to do is we go ask Regina some questions about Jefferson or whatever, I see if she's lying and then I stakeout her home to see if she does anything suspicious after that. We'll figure it out more on the way there."

~~~*~~~

Despite Emma's insistence to do things properly, she and August had ended compromising by deciding Emma would ask Regina some questions while August snuck into the garage and looked for any sign of the broken shovel.

Emma wasn't going to admit it, but she was slightly glad she wasn't going entirely by the book, even if that was the way Henry expected heroes to act.

She really hoped August found something, but at the same time, she didn't know what she'd do if she found further proof that Regina was involved. That Henry's adoptive mother could be responsible for someone's murder.

"Miss Swan?" Regina asked once she had opened the door, fixing Emma with an unimpressed look that only had the effect of making Emma even more determined to find the truth. "What are you doing here? Miss Blanchard may be free but I don't think that means you have the time to visit Henry. The real killer is still at large, remember?"

"I'm aware." Emma said sharply, digging a small notepad out of her pocket and then looking back up at Regina with a raised eyebrow. "I'm actually here  _because_ of that. I have to ask you some questions."

"For me?" Regina seemed more amused than concerned, although she did step out of her house and close the door, as though wanting to hide the conversation from Henry. "What evidence could you have possibly found that's misleading enough to bring you to me?"

Emma decided not to answer that. "Can I ask you first when you last saw Kathryn Nolan?"

"The morning of the day she went missing." Regina answered quickly, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at Emma. Emma felt the familiar twinge of a lie, and she narrowed her eyes at the mayor. "She told me she was going to meet David for coffee. I never heard from her again after that."

"You and Kathryn weren't friends for very long, were you?" Emma continued, writing down Regina's response. "I mean, you didn't know her before David woke from his coma?"

"The length of time that we were friends holds very little bearing on whether or not I care that she was  _murdered_ , Miss Swan." Regina spat. "Trust me that, if I were the one with the power to find her, I would not have wasted a second in my search."

"I wanted to know because I was wondering if you knew anyone who may have wanted to hurt Kathryn, not because I thought you didn't care." Emma said hurriedly, although she had to admit she had hardly seen Regina acting concerned. Her interest in the case had appeared to be more focused on hurting Mary-Margaret than finding the truth. "People don't just rip people's hearts out on a whim. Whoever hurt Kathryn believed they had a reason to do it."

"I'm not aware of anyone who would want to hurt her." Regina said, another lie that made Emma fidget slightly. She still didn't want to confront Regina, not without evidence, but this entire conversation was making her feel uneasy and she just hoped August had had enough time, because she wasn't going to keep it going. "But after so many days investigating, Sheriff, you really should be."

Emma swallowed and then flipped the notebook shut. "That's all I needed to know, Mayor Mills. Thank you for your time." Regina gave her a tight, unpleasant smile in response and then turned to head back inside. "Actually, I do have one more question. Do you know Jefferson?"

Regina stiffened, her hand hovering above the door handle, and when she twisted around to face Emma again, her answer was written across her face. Her eyes were wide, slightly panicked, and Emma knew, in that moment, that Jefferson had been telling the truth.

Regina  _was_  involved. Emma was still loathe to believe Regina had murdered Kathryn herself, because she did not want Henry's adoptive mother to be capable of such a brutal crime, but Emma just  _knew_ that it had been on Regina's orders that Jefferson had covered the crime up and set up Mary-Margaret to take the fall for it.

And suddenly everything was too overwhelming.

Regina's expression had changed into one of fake confusion, and Emma was barely listening when Regina told her that she'd never heard the name Jefferson before, let alone  _known_ him, and Regina had returned into her home when Emma finally felt she wasn't drowning anymore.

Henry was living with Regina. Henry's  _mother_ was Regina. For the first time since Henry had brought her to Storybrooke, Emma was fully convinced that Regina Mills, as Henry had always said, was evil.

She hurried away from the mayor's house and back around the corner to where August had parked his motorbike, exhaling loudly in relief when she saw the wide grin on August's face.

"Please tell me that smile means you found something." she begged, and August nodded. "Because I need something I can actually use to arrest Regina without her wriggling free."

"I found the shovel." He stated, and a wide grin spread across Emma's face. "Now what? Do we get a warrant and bring her down to the station?"

Emma wanted to do just that, but she knew they'd have to be cleverer. After Emma had asked about Jefferson, she imagined there was a chance Regina would be extra cautious over the next few days. "Not yet. We wait until she thinks we don't suspect her. We keep looking for Jefferson. And then in a couple of days, we turn up and we get her. I mean, I bet she's moving that shovel right now. We can't rush in to try and prove it was her when she thinks we might be onto her, because that  _will_ end in disaster."

"So we wait?"

Emma took in another deep breath, hating what she was saying but unable to see another option. "Yeah. We wait."

~~~*~~~

Waiting was surprisingly tiring, especially when Emma tried to pass the time by looking for any hint of where Jefferson could be. She couldn't help searching, not when she so desperately wanted to prove Regina's guilt and knew that the only way to do that quickly was to have Jefferson confess what he knew.

And it was only when she got a text from David asking if she was planning on returning home anytime soon, the words misspelt and hurried, that Emma decided to actually take a break.

But not at home. Emma was certain that David and Mary-Margaret were doing things she did  _not_ want to walk in on.

She ended up retreating to Granny's instead. It was either strangely busy or Emma was getting used to the emptiness of the Sheriff's station, all the tables occupied.

Lacey and Killian were in a booth and Emma hesitated for a moment, but after the days she'd had, Emma just wanted to sit down somewhere comfortable and she had to admit that the bench, with Killian's arm resting along it's back, looked like just that.

"Can I join you guys?" She asked, and barely gave the two of them time to nod before settling in next to Killian. They both greeted her fondly and then returned to their conversation, something about a book Killian had read on Lacey's recommendation, although Emma wasn't really listening.

She was happy just reading the menu, and waiting for Ruby to appear. She was far too exhausted to take part in any conversation, especially one about books.

Killian had already finished whatever he'd ordered - probably lasagne, from what Emma knew about him - and Lacey seemed to be slowly working through a plate of fries, dipping each one into her milkshake and laughing at Killian's disgusted expression.

Emma ordered a steak with fries and then shifted slightly closer towards Killian because he was warm and comfortable. And even though his arm soon moved a few inches so it was around her shoulders and not resting on the back of the bench behind her, his fingers occasionally drawing light patterns on the curve of her shoulder, it didn't feel like too much.

Lacey wasn't giving them any strange looks or anything, so it  _couldn't_  be too much. Emma was certain people would look a bit surprised if it was at all clear that anything about their relationship had changed.

Not that they had a  _relationship_ , or anything.

She finished her food quickly, seeing as she hadn't eaten since breakfast, and once her plate was clear, she leant even closer to Killian because she'd  _missed_ this. He knew just how to touch her, the tips of his fingers just grazing past the collar of her shirt to her skin.

Emma  _tried_ to listen to the conversation, because they were still talking about some book called 'Thief of Time', which Emma had never read and had no interest in reading, but she hadn't sat down and just relaxed in days. And Killian was so warm and he smelt so good and the way he was caressing her arm was irritatingly soothing, and before she knew it, her eyelids felt heavy and the noise of the diner faded into a faint buzz.

For a short while, she actually slept.

She woke to find Lacey gone and Killian's arm holding her close, her head on his shoulder and she had been wrong. The ease and security she found in his arms  _were_ too much, and she tensed. Killian noticed, a sad sigh falling from his lips as he released her, and she hurried away towards the back exit of the diner.

What they had now should be quick, stress-relieving trysts and not her curling up against him in one of the booths at Granny's and it definitely shouldn't feel so safe in his arms that she could  _fall asleep_.

"You didn't have to run."

She paused just a few steps from the exit, turning to see that he'd followed her and was looking at her almost pleadingly. "Yes, I did."

"Why?" He asked, taking one step closer and then, when she didn't shy away, crossing the remainder of the distance between them. "You haven't slept in days. If… well, if being with me helps you sleep… just please don't run away, Emma. You  _need_ this."

"I don't need you." She hissed, wringing her hands together and feeling inexplicably nervous. "I  _don't_."

"You need  _sleep._ " Killian replied, but his gaze had dropped from her to the floor and she shouldn't feel guilty but she did. "Come on, Emma. It's clear to everyone you haven't been sleeping. Besides, I would never dare to assume you relied on me for anything."

They should not be having this discussion in the back corridor of Granny's. They shouldn't be having it  _at all_  but Emma couldn't walk away from him. "Good, because I don't."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And Emma couldn't leave, not when she was certain how much it would hurt him, but she couldn't say anymore because everything was far too intense and she was so,  _so_ tired.

"Just tell me what will make things better for you, because I know you're struggling with every ludicrous thing happening in this town and all I want to do is help you."

She couldn't say anything, his earnestness making her breath catch in her throat, and then she stumbled towards him. He caught her awkwardly but she didn't care, not once her lips were pressed to his and she was clutching at his jacket and pulling him close, sighing into him when the kiss almost immediately softened into something more tender than any kiss she could remember.

And she  _hated_  how hard it was to keep their relationship simple, hated how she missed their shared lunches and goodnight texts. But most of all she hated how she knew  _exactly_ what she wanted but couldn't let herself have it.

Her breath hitched, tears tickling her eyes, but Emma refused to cry. She  _wasn't_ emotional, not about this, she was just overworked. That's all it was, not that she would let Killian see.

Except then he pressed his prosthetic hand to the small of her back, pressed her closer to him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting hers for only a second before the kiss slowed again and a breathy, broken whimper fell from her lips.

"Emma?" he asked, Emma chasing his lips even as he pulled back and peered down at her. "Is everything-?"

"Not now, Killian." she sobbed, sniffing slightly in an attempt to keep back the unwelcome tears. "I can't do this right now. Just stay here."

For a second she thought he was going to ask his question anyway, but instead he just shifted slightly and bundled her into his arms, holding her close and letting her nuzzle into him.

And maybe he had secrets,  _maybe_ he was a risk, but with everything else becoming harder and harder for her to deal with, Emma thought perhaps he might be the one risk worth taking. Not that she felt like she could say that, the words catching in her throat before she could voice them.

So instead she just tried to move even closer and let his warmth surround her, turning so she could brush her lips against his neck. She felt his smile against her temple, and she needed to kiss him again so she tilted her head back, ran her fingers along his cheek, his jaw, and then let her eyes flutter closed as their noses touched. She took a moment to savour the anticipation of the moment, shivering when she felt him brush away the few stray tears that she knew stained her cheeks.

Then, just as his lips finally touched hers, a scream tore through the air and Emma shoved Killian away, spinning to look at the back exit, the direction the sound had come from.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, rubbing furiously at her eyes and straightening up. Killian didn't seem to know, shaking his head in response, and then he followed Emma out of the diner and around the cars parked behind Granny's.

It was then that Emma saw exactly who it was that had screamed. Ruby was backed against the side of one of the parked trucks, her face pale and her gaze fixed on something a few metres ahead of her. On Kathryn Nolan, who was on the ground, her hair tangled, her face and clothes covered in dirt.

And she was alive.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this for me!

**Chapter 20**

Emma had hoped to get some sleep, but after Kathryn's reappearance, she had been too busy thinking. Instead, she had laid in bed the whole night and tried to make sense of everything.

Kathryn was  _alive_. Emma wasn't sure what state she was in yet, that was something she'd find out from Dr Whale the following day, but she was definitely not dead. Which meant that Ruby had found  _someone else's_ heart, so suddenly Emma didn't just have a murder-turned-kidnapping to solve, but another murder too, and this time she didn't even know who the victim was.

She was also slightly preoccupied with the epiphany she'd had the day before about actually trying something  _more_ with Killian. Emma wasn't thinking about it too often, because her job was more important, but when she took a break from thinking about the case, she did let her mind wander.

The thought of actually telling him that she was as ready as she could be to let him in was terrifying. She couldn't help but think that admitting it gave him the chance to reject her, to realise that he liked the challenge of getting her to fall for him but didn't actually like her.

And when she had a rare, optimistic thought, she could just  _picture_ the way he would look at her if she told him and it made her heart race and her breath quicken and she suddenly, desperately wanted to tell him.

Except telling him involved her opening up to him, more than she had done in weeks, and that scared her more than anything.

She'd spent the rest of the night with her thoughts oscillating between the two issues and she was still awake when the sun started to rise. Emma groaned and buried her head into her pillow, and if she didn't get one good night sleep sometime soon, Emma wasn't entirely sure how she was going to keep functioning.

When she finally arrived at the hospital the following morning, a mocha with three extra shots of espresso in her hand, she was desperately hoping that Kathryn was going to confirm all her suspicions and everything would be over and done with and maybe, just maybe, she might be able to sleep that night.

Dr Whale was in the room with Kathryn when Emma entered, and he looked up at her with a polite smile. "Look who's awake." He said, gesturing with his clipboard towards Kathryn.

Kathryn looked as exhausted as Emma felt, but Emma had to admit that an exhausted, alive Kathryn was definitely an improvement over a dead Kathryn.

"Kathryn, hi." Emma said carefully, and when the woman didn't flinch away, Emma crossed the room to sit in the plastic chair next to her bedside. "I don't want to take up a lot of your time. But, do you remember what happened?"

Kathryn shook her head, and Emma exhaled loudly. "I don't know much." Kathryn admitted. "A man approached me in the street after I had coffee with David and he was talking to me about my work at the DA's office as though he knew me. After that, everything's blurry. The next thing I'm certain of is that I was in the dark, in some basement." Emma dug her notepad out of her bag and wrote Kathryn's words down quickly on the paper. At least that seemed to confirm that Jefferson had been the one to take her. "I didn't see anyone but there was food and water. And then, well, I guess I was drugged."

"You were." Dr Whale confirmed after a glance at Kathryn's records. "We're still trying to flush that out of your system."

"I woke up in a field at the edge of town and I started walking." Kathryn finished, looking away from Emma and fiddling anxiously with the edge of her blanket. "That was it. How… how long was I missing?"

"Just less than a week." Emma answered quickly, and Kathryn's eyes widened. "You really saw no one except this man? You didn't hear any other voices? Smell perfume? Cologne? Anything?"

"Nothing, no." Kathryn admitted. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help. Especially since… While I was gone, you thought I was dead?"

"Your DNA matched the heart we found." Emma stated, sending Dr Whale a questioning look because Emma didn't know much about biology, but she was certain that couldn't happen without someone changing the results. "That was pretty convincing evidence."

"They're grilling everybody down at the hospital lab to see who doctored the DNA results." Dr Whale told Emma, slightly sheepishly and Emma raised an eyebrow at him. Dr Whale had always seemed to be a good doctor, but Emma was convinced of Regina's involvement and she wasn't certain just how much control Regina had over the rest of the town. Including the doctor.

"Why would anyone do this?" Kathryn asked, and it seemed that question was the last one she could ask, turning away from Emma and wiping at her eyes with the blanket. "Why me?"

Emma shrugged apologetically, knowing that her only answer was hardly comforting. "I think someone was trying to frame Mary-Margaret."

"But why?" Kathryn asked, although her expression seemed more cheerful when she spotted someone over Emma's shoulder. Emma glanced around to see Jim waiting outside, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. "I mean,  _who_ would do something like this?"

Emma shook her head in answer and then told Kathryn she'd heard enough, and if Kathryn did remember anything more, Emma was only a phone call away. Besides, she was certain that Kathryn would rather be talking to Jim than her.

She left the reunited couple alone, taking a seat in the waiting room as she tried to work through everything Kathryn had said and everything Emma had found. Jefferson had done the dirty work, that much was clear, but with the way Regina had lied the day before, Emma was still certain that Regina was involved.

And seeing as Kathryn hadn't even been murdered, then maybe the entire disappearing act was purely to frame Mary-Margaret.

Somehow, Jefferson had found a heart and it had been used as evidence in blaming Mary-Margaret for Kathryn's death. And now, all Emma had was the confused answers of Kathryn Nolan, a missing suspect, and another murder victim that no one had reported missing, let alone dead.

Emma groaned, her head in her hands. She'd thought things were complicated before, and last night, in one of her optimistic moments, she had thought that Kathryn's reappearance could only simplify things. She had been wrong.

Her phone rang, and if it was someone ringing the Sheriff station, Emma wasn't entirely sure what she'd do. Pawn the job off on David probably.

But it was still her job, so she answered the phone without even checking the caller ID. "Sheriff Swan speaking."

"You sound even worse than yesterday, love." It was Killian, and Emma felt an unfamiliar anxiety spread through her, the result of her realisation the day before, as well as relief that it wasn't another crime. "Is everything alright?"

"You're the one who called." She pointed out, and his warm chuckle echoed from the phone speaker. "What's up?"

"I hardly want to bother you further, Swan, but I've just returned from the hospital and-"

"You were at the hospital?" Emma interrupted, and he made a vague noise of confirmation. "I didn't see you."

"I thought I'd let you continue your investigation without any distractions." He teased and Emma smiled shyly, very glad he wasn't there to see her reaction. "However, when I returned, I found your lad in my shop and seeing as it was 'Closed', I had to wonder what he was doing there."

"Henry broke into your shop?" Emma clarified, already standing from her seat and hurrying towards the exit of the hospital. "That's not like him."

"I believe he's simply looking for a gift for Mary-Margaret." Killian said, and Emma was relieved to hear that he didn't seem to care about Henry's trespassing. "However, I thought I should let you know he's here. As small a town as Storybrooke is, it's not the safest right now."

"Isn't Regina with him?"

"Unfortunately not." Killian told her and Emma sighed angrily. As often as Regina claimed to be Henry's rightful mother, Emma thought she might be slightly more eager to keep him safe while there was a murderer on the loose. Although, if the mayor was the murderer, she could see how Regina knew it was safe for Henry to be running around town by himself. "He did bring an unwelcome visitor with him though, and as innocent as Henry's motives appear to be, I'm not as convinced by our town's latest visitor."

" _August's_ with Henry?" Emma frowned, not having expected the two of them to be spending time together and not entirely sure she was comfortable with it. A fairytale author like August was probably not the best person for Henry to talk to when the kid was still insistent on believing the town was cursed. "Look, give me five minutes and I'll be right there."

"I'm looking forward to it, Swan." Killian said in farewell, his voice warm and quiet, and Emma actually felt a thrill of anticipation that she was going to see him again, even though she was just visiting him in order to pick up her son. "It's been too long."

"It's been a night."

"Like I said," Killian murmured, and she wondered why his voice was so quiet. Was he trying to keep their conversation private because Henry and August were nearby? "Too long."

~~~*~~~

When Emma arrived at the pawnbrokers, she couldn't stop the small smile that escaped when she saw Henry and Killian talking through the window. It looked like Killian was showing Henry his hand-drawn maps, something that Emma had a feeling would be very interesting to Henry.

August was there too, but he just seemed to be browsing through the various different items on display.

"Having fun?" Emma asked when she entered, her smile widening when Henry and Killian looked up at her and both grinned widely. "What are you guys doing?"

"Did you know Killian  _drew_ these?" Henry asked cheerfully, pointing down at the map in front of him and then beaming up at Emma. "Isn't that cool?"

"I did know." Emma answered, walking past August to join the other two at the counter. "I actually have one of his maps. I've been thinking of hanging it up on my bedroom wall actually."

Killian tilted his head to the side, clearly searching to see if she was telling the truth, and when he figured out that she was, his mouth opened slightly for a second before spreading into an even wider smile than he'd given her before.

"So, you're trying to find a gift for Mary-Margaret, Henry?" Emma said, when the way Killian was looking at her felt too overwhelming. "How about we band together and get her something really great?"

"I want to get her the unicorn mobile." Henry said instantly, as though he would have always bought that if he had the right amount of money. "I can see it in the picture of your nursery in the storybook. It's hers, so we should give it back to her."

Killian shook his head in amusement, and then Emma watched in confusion as he fetched a small stool and stood up to gently take down the mobile. "It's poor form to give someone something that already belongs to them as a gift." He pointed out, and Emma gaped at him as he started to carefully wrap the glass unicorns in tissue paper. "So why don't you take this for Mary-Margaret anyway and then use your money to buy her something new?"

Emma raised an eyebrow at the pawnbroker. She'd heard, many times, that he gave people quite a lot for free but she'd yet to see him hand over something that had to be valued quite highly. He was giving it to Henry without any questions.

She glanced back in order to exchange a surprised look with August, but the writer seemed to be glaring at Killian and appeared totally unaware that Emma was looking at him.

"You know, Emma, Henry told me that his present is for Mary-Margaret's welcome home party." Killian murmured to her, Henry having wandered off to start perusing the shelves again. "I hadn't heard of such an event."

"Well, you  _are_ invited." She pointed out without a moment's thought, and he beamed at her. "It starts in a couple of hours, if you're free."

The two of them chatted quietly for a while as Henry searched for a present, and even though he didn't say anything, August remained in the shop, looking between her and Killian as though he was disapproving of her decision to stand close to the pawnbroker as they talked.

And maybe Emma was being slightly more tactile than she would have been before, her hand brushing against his arm as they talked, her hips angled towards him, but August had no right to judge her for that.. She knew Killian better than he did, she was certain of that.

Henry picked a little decorative ship's bell for Mary-Margaret and it was when Killian was sorting it out and wrapping it in some blue wrapping paper with decorative gold anchors that Emma finally decided to broach the topic of Henry's appearance in the closed shop.

"Where's your mom, Henry?" she asked. "Does she know you're here?"

Henry shook his head. "She had to work this morning. I was supposed to stay home and do my homework but it's boring to be alone all day."

Emma couldn't deny that, and she wasn't particularly happy that her ten year old son seemed so unconcerned about being left at home all day by himself. "Look, Henry. I know you're used to wandering around Storybrooke on your own and I understand that being left by yourself is lonely, but there's someone dangerous in Storybrooke right now."

"Not for long." Henry interrupted. "You'll find them."

"Yeah, well," Emma stammered, his faith in her disconcerting. "Until I do that, I'd rather know that you were safe."

"You want me to stay in the house too?"

"No, Henry. Just, if you want to leave, you can contact me with the walkie-talkie, remember? We'll spend the day together." Emma told him and Henry's grin widened. "Right now, I'd feel better knowing you were  _safe_. Not that I wouldn't spend time with you otherwise."

"But what if you're busy?" He said, suddenly quieting. "I mean, you're looking for this bad guy so you can't spend every day with me."

"Well, most days you'll be at school." Emma pointed out and Henry grumbled slightly. "And if not, then…"

She faltered, not entirely sure what to suggest and she exchanged a pleading look with Killian, who smiled reassuringly.

"I'd be more than happy to spend time with you, lad." Killian offered, and Henry brightened for a moment before suddenly sobering and exchanging an uncertain glance with August. "I could always use a first mate."

"Me too." August said suddenly, and Emma spun to look at him. "I definitely have free time that we could spend together. If your mothers' are busy, that is."

Even knowing that Killian had yet to be entirely truthful with her about some things, that he still had secrets, Emma was surprised to realise that she trusted Killian more than August. "That's nice, both of you. Henry, if you're alone in the house again and you want to get out, call me. If I  _am_ busy, I'll let Killian know and you guys can go out on his ship. With lifejackets." Henry nodded, sharing another mysterious glance with August and that was enough for Emma. "But for today, I'm going to call David and set him to work while I take some time off and we get ice cream."

Henry cheered, taking the perfectly wrapped gift from Killian and then turning expectantly towards Emma. Instead of leaving, though, she asked Henry to wait outside for a moment, right where she could see him, whispering to him that she needed to make sure Killian knew the details for the party that afternoon.

"The party starts at three." she told him, biting her lip nervously when he rounded the counter to stand in front of her. "I'll be leaving at five though, to get Henry home. Maybe afterwards, we could…" He stared expectantly at her and Emma took a deep breath.

Maybe she couldn't say what she wanted, but she could make it pretty clear.

"Afterwards, I could accompany you back to the Jolly Roger and we could just spend some time alone?" she suggested, grimacing slightly when she realised that hardly made her new stance on their relationship clear.

He gave her a searching look and then nodded in agreement. "We could pick up dinner from Granny's on the way back to my ship."

His suggestion felt like a challenge, like he wanted to confirm that it wasn't just sex this time. Emma inhaled shakily and then nodded. "That sounds nice. I guess I'll see you in a bit then?"

"Most definitely, Swan." He murmured, reaching out and lacing his fingers with hers as he gently tugged her closer. "I have to admit that I'm looking forward to it."

He leant in and brushed a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of her cheek, and even after he released her hand, Emma took a few minutes to step away, revelling in his closeness for a few moments.

"Bye, Killian." she breathed, leaving him with a quick wave before she joined her son outside.

He was still talking to August, the two of them whispering covertly to each other and Emma wanted desperately to know what they were discussing, especially when they fell silent as she exited the pawnbrokers.

"So, ice cream?" she prompted, beaming down at her son when he hurried to her side. "I think there's a couple of flavours I haven't tried yet."

"Mind if I join you?" August asked, and Emma grimaced.

"Actually yeah, I do." She said stiffly, and August looked offended. She sent Henry ahead of her, keeping her eye on her son even as she turned to August. "Look, next time you break into a shop and use my son as an alibi or a distraction or whatever it is you needed when you took advantage of the fact that he wanted to get Mary-Margaret a present, don't think I'll be letting you wander away without answering any questions. I'm just too tired for that right now."

August gaped at her, but Emma didn't have time to listen to an excuse. She followed after her son before he could say a word.

~~~*~~~

Emma couldn't have imagined so many people could even fit inside the loft, yet almost everyone Emma knew in Storybrooke seemed to be at the welcome back party. David and Mary-Margaret were darting around and greeting everyone, moving from a conversation with Granny and Ruby to one with Archie and Marco with an ease that looked strangely effortless.

Unlike them, Emma had found Killian and then stayed at his side. She waved at the others, but gatherings like this weren't things she particularly enjoyed. Killian had clearly noticed, bringing her a finger of rum even though it was only mid-afternoon, and then they'd murmured quietly to each other about whatever topic came to mind.

Henry joined them sometimes too, but he was as eager as Mary-Margaret to talk to everyone, so Emma only ever managed to exchange a few sentences with him before he ran off to speak to someone else. More often than not, it was August he was chatting to.

Mary-Margaret finally managed to join Emma and Killian, David hovering at her shoulder, and her smile faded slightly once she was turned away from all the guests. "All of these people… just to welcome me home?"

"You've got a lot of friends." Emma pointed out, gesturing with her glass towards the crowd of people. "That and you promised free food."

Mary-Margaret laughed slightly, but Emma was slightly distracted by Killian chuckling in her ear. "It didn't feel like that yesterday." She admitted, and Emma watched as Mary-Margaret shifted so she could wrap her arms around David's waist and cuddle into him for a moment. "I felt like I had a few people who really cared, and I don't think I'll ever stop being thankful for the way the two of you never gave up. If you hadn't been there, I wouldn't have felt so sure that somehow everything would be okay."

"I don't know how you felt like that, because I was pretty sure I was going to make everything worse." Emma stated quietly, taking a small sip of her rum, and then turning to Killian with a raised eyebrow when she felt him nudge her slightly.

"We knew otherwise, Swan." He told her, his eyes soft. Emma just rolled her eyes at him before returning her gaze to Mary-Margaret. Mary-Margaret was grinning between the two of them, looking far more excited than she had any right to be. "How are you enjoying your freedom, Mary-Margaret?"

"So far, it's been wonderful." She answered, smiling as David pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Miss Blanchard?" Henry interrupted the conversation, appearing at Emma's side and holding out the two presents he'd gotten her, as well as a huge card. "I have something for you."

Mary-Margaret took the card first, sliding her finger under the envelope flap and carefully opening it. "Well, thank you." She said gratefully, her eyes darting across the words written in the card and making a bemused chuckle fall from her lips."We're so glad you didn't kill Mrs Nolan…"

"It's from the whole class," Henry said with a nod. " _I_ got you a bell. And this. Be careful opening it."

Mary-Margaret took the large parcel from Henry, the one Emma knew to be the unicorn mobile, and ripped the paper open, her eyebrows furrowing when she realised what the gift was. "This is… thank you so much, Henry. You can tell the whole class that I'll be back soon."

Mary-Margaret tilted her head inquisitively at Emma, clearly wondering why Henry thought she'd need a mobile, but when Mary-Margaret held it up and the unicorns caught the light, a warm, pensive look crossed her face.

"Okay." Henry said, standing on his tiptoes to nudge one of the unicorns so it hit another and made a small chiming noise. "Do you recognise it, Miss Blanchard?"

Mary-Margaret narrowed her eyes, and then, slowly, shook her head. "I don't. It really is beautiful though. Thank you."

David took the mobile from Mary-Margaret, murmuring to the group that he was going to put it away so they could decide where to hang it later. Mary-Margaret watched him leave, Emma taking the break in conversation to glance down at her watch,

It was nearing 5 pm, and as much as Emma wanted to stay and keep talking with her closest friends, she knew Henry needed to get home before his mother returned from work.

"Henry, we should get you home before your mom finds out what you've been doing. That won't be pretty." Emma told him, and although Henry grimaced, he headed towards the coat rack to pick up his coat and scarf. "Killian, do you still want to-?"

"Aye." He said, his hand brushing across her waist as he too headed towards the exit. "I'll give you two a couple of minutes?"

Emma nodded gratefully at him, a fond smile dancing across her lips when she saw him put on his leather jacket and then engage Henry in conversation.

"Do you still want to…  _what_?" Mary-Margaret whispered excitedly, Emma grumbling in response. "What time do you think you'll be home?"

"Late." Emma answered, shaking her head in exasperation when Mary-Margaret raised her eyebrows at her. "I figured that  _my_ present to you could be letting you have the apartment all to yourself until sometime after midnight."

"Oh Emma, you know you don't  _need_ to make yourself scarce." Mary-Margaret said, although with the way she was still glancing between Emma and Killian, Emma was rather certain she was fishing for information instead of being as sincere as she would have been normally. "Really. I hate that David and I keep inconveniencing you like this."

"No, Mary-Margaret, it's not…" Emma swallowed, peering over her shoulder back at Killian. "I'll just be back late tonight."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Mary-Margaret checked, and Emma nodded in agreement.

After she'd retrieved her own jacket from her room, she, Henry and Killian wandered along the quiet streets towards Regina's house. Emma remained silent for most of the journey, preoccupied with the fact that whatever she and Killian were doing that evening, it was more than she had ever thought she would allow herself.

Besides, Henry seemed eager to ask Killian some rather strange questions, most of which Killian answered with simple, one-word answers. There wasn't much else he could say when the questions were along the lines of whether or not he'd made deals with most of the townspeople.

Emma left Henry at his home with a quick hug and a promise to find the time to do something with him the following day, and then it was just her and Killian.

For a few minutes, they simply walked in silence, Killian's arm resting across Emma's shoulder once she had wrapped hers around his waist. It felt comfortable, easy even, although she did feel a slight urge to run when Killian left her outside Granny's as he went inside to pick up some food for them.

Being with someone like this was already frightening, but once he was back at her side, she remembered just why she was so determined to at least try.

"Have you spent much time with Booth?" Killian asked as they walked down the final few streets towards his ship, the paper take-out bag tucked against his chest with his left arm and his right hand holding Emma's. "I've spent more time than I would have liked with him over the past few days."

"He's helped out with the case a few times." Emma admitted with a shrug, unable to look away from their laced hands. "Not that I really know him. He's a typewriter wrapped in an enigma wrapped in stubble. Him poking around your shop didn't really make me think much of him either."

"He was hardly subtle." Killian commented. "Do you trust him?"

Emma shrugged noncommittally, not entirely sure what answer to give. Despite all his apparent determination to keep himself a mystery, she had read August well enough to know that he had good intentions.

At the same time, she couldn't fully trust someone who had as many secrets as August did. It was why she'd spent so long holding back from Killian, and unlike Killian, she didn't trust that August would one day tell her everything.

She wasn't entirely sure when she'd become that confident in Killian, but she was.

Eventually Emma answered his question, squeezing his hand reassuringly in a silent promise that she trusted Killian more, not that she was sure he understood it. "I trust him enough."

~~~*~~~

Once on the Jolly Roger, the two of them abandoned the food in the galley and returned to deck. It was still light, although the sun was low in the orange-streaked sky, and Emma took a few minutes to gaze out at the horizon as Killian hurried around and unplugged all of his electric wires and tucked them safely off-deck, busying himself after this with adjusting all the rigging as though getting ready for a journey.

"Are we going somewhere?" Emma asked once he joined her at the railing. She pretended she didn't notice how he was looking at her, with a more relaxed smile than she'd ever seen him wear and his fingers combing gently through her wind-tussled hair. "Because, as Sheriff, I can't be gone for too long."

"You're off-duty right now." he reminded her, offering her his arm and then leading her towards the ships wheel. "Aren't you?"

"I am." She agreed, letting him press her gently against the wheel, his hand guiding hers to one of the spokes. "But can you even sail this ship by yourself?"

"I can sail it with you." He murmured in her ear, his lips catching her earlobe as he spoke and making her gasp sharply and press slightly back towards him. "It won't go far, but we don't need to be. I've just had these dreams about having you up against the mast, Swan, and I figured you'd rather us not have an audience."

Her mouth went dry and she twisted around to look at him, her eyes wide. When she didn't say anything, he chuckled and then quickly brushed a kiss across her lips, his hand still warm over hers as the ship started to travel slowly out of the docking bay.

"I'm kidding, love." He muttered, and Emma wanted to tell him that she really wished he wasn't, except she was still surprised by his sudden forwardness. As flirtatious as Killian could be, he'd never been so explicit when he admitted he wanted her. "I simply thought you might want to get away from town for a while."

"Oh god, yes." she sighed, closing her eyes and letting a smile turn up the corner of her lips when he inched closer so there was almost no space between her, him and the wheel. "Getting away from Storybrooke, even if it's just for a few hours, sounds great. Even better seeing as it's with you."

She felt him kiss just behind her ear, but then Killian seemed to decide that flirtations were better for after her impromptu sailing lesson. He talked nonstop about port and starboard and manning the rigging, and although Emma truly was listening, it was nice to stop thinking sometimes and just let his voice wash over her.

"Killian?" she asked quietly, when the ship was slicing easily through the waves and Storybrooke was becoming more and more distant. "What's this?"

Emma had noticed the scratched out symbols for Port and Starboard just beside the wheel, and she was curious to know why they'd been crossed out, and why they'd been etched into the ship. For a while, however, Killian said nothing.

Instead, he left Emma at the wheel and hurried off to drop anchor, telling Emma briefly that travelling any further away from Storybrooke could end in trouble.

He did return, but instead of taking Emma back into his arm, he stood beside her and traced his fingers over the symbols. "My first love." He began, and it was clear whatever story he was telling her wasn't easy.

But he  _was_ telling her, and that was enough for Emma to take his hand, the first time she'd initiated such contact. "Milah?"

"Aye." Killian said, his voice close to a whisper. "She had a son and I, I wanted to a family with him even after she was gone. Both of us had no one else. However, we… well, we couldn't see eye to eye and when he chose to leave me…"

He seemed to be struggling to explain any further. "You don't need to say anymore." Emma interrupted, and Killian visibly relaxed. "I know what it's like when you're not chosen and you end up alone."

His smile was tight, but genuine, and Emma let herself sink towards him when he pulled her into an embrace, a warm kiss pressed to her hair. "You know, Swan, you seem to be a natural at this." He commented eventually, clearly hoping to change the atmosphere even when he didn't pull away. "Sailing, I mean. Perhaps, next time, I could teach you how to use a sword and see how you cope with that."

"You  _know_ how to use a sword?" Emma mumbled into his shoulder, feeling the vibrations as he laughed. "Did you learn in case pirating made a comeback?"

He was silent, and Emma had given up on hearing a response when he nuzzled further into her hair, Emma able to feel him grinning. "You  _know_ I know how to use a sword." He told her. "You've felt it."

Emma pulled away from him with a surprised bark of laughter, wondering what had happened that had made him switch from sincerity to innuendo. She didn't ask, because this, with him, was already more than she had thought she was ready for.

Instead, the two of them moved a blanket from his cabin to the floor of the deck, and they sat there as they ate the food Killian had bought, Emma leaning across the space between them to steal the occasional onion ring from the polystyrene box next to him.

For most of the meal, they simply exchanged easy conversation and light touches, Emma's hand brushing against his arm or his thigh whenever she took anything from near him, Killian taking any opportunity to brush her hair away from her face. She told him more about the case, asking him questions she didn't expect answers to, about why Jefferson would work for Regina and why Regina would want to ruin Mary-Margaret's life.

"Because if anyone can give this Jefferson something he wants, it's Regina. You did say he wanted his daughter back, and I imagine a man like him would be willing to do whatever it takes to get that." Killian told her after the first question, and Emma swallowed and met his gaze. "Before you, I too was willing to do what Regina wanted. I know you're aware that the two of us used to be in contact."

"And why did  _you_ work for her?" Emma asked, her food finished. "What did you want from her? What did she make you do?"

"She made me do too many things to name." He admitted, glancing up at her shyly as though he was expecting her to demand he return her to Storybrooke and then never speak to her again. "I did all of them willingly. But back then, before you, I had nothing to live for, so I was willing to do anything in the hope it would make my life mean something."

Emma felt as though her heart was in her throat, his words far too intense for her to process. "Before me?" she breathed, watching with baited breath as he reached for her, leaning across the blanket as his hand skimmed up her arm to cup her cheek. "What do you mean, before me?"

He met her gaze, but didn't answer. Emma had to admit she was relieved, because she could cope with the slow, deep kiss he gave her in response but she wasn't sure what she would have done if he continued to imply the depths of his feelings for her.

For a while, they just kept kissing, Killian hovering over her, his hand grazing the curve of her breast, the top of her thighs but never venturing further. They shared all kinds of kisses, from lingering, all-consuming ones that Emma felt throughout her entire being, to sweet, quick kisses, night falling around them.

It had been years since Emma had allowed herself the time to just be with someone the way she was with Killian, but after a while, she craved more.

So she pushed him away gently, leading him from the blankets to the mast and letting him press her against the wooden column, his body warm against her back as he pressed hot kisses to the back of her neck and shoulders, his hand firm on her hip.

"This is what you dreamt of, isn't it?" she whimpered, his fingers dancing lightly across her stomach and then dipping further down. "With me?"

Killian mumbled something incoherent in answer, his mouth busy at the juncture between her shoulders and neck until she arched and moaned and pressed even closer.

Afterwards, when she was breathless and sated and certain that she'd never be able to walk across his deck again without blushing, he carried her back to the blankets and lay down next to her, their bodies fitting together when she rolled to rest against him.

"Finally exhausted enough to sleep?" Killian asked in a low mumble, catching her hand as it trailed through his chest hair and then pressing a kiss to the back of it. "We could retire to my bunk if you'd like?"

"No." Emma denied, her voice thick with sleep. "I don't want to nap."

She felt him shrug, and she had to press her face into his chest to stop him from seeing the wide smile that had spread across her face. "Then what do you want?"

"Just talk to me."

He told her of the stars, although Emma was too tired to really listen. Instead, she watched him, unable to stop smiling at the passion that possessed him when he spoke of the night sky. He sometimes took her hand in his and tried to make them trace the constellations together, his eyes as bright as the stars they were speaking of.

"Are you even listening, Emma?" he asked eventually, when she curled up even closer to him and let her hand rest on his chest, looking at him instead of at the sky. "Would you rather I spoke of something else?"

Instead of answering, she tilted her head up to capture his lips in a lazy kiss, parting from him only when he shifted her so that she was draped across him, his hand warming her skin where it rested against the small of her back.

"I'll take that as a no." he said, using his bare, handless arm to gesture up towards the sky, pointing to something Emma couldn't distinguish. "Do you know, love, that my favourite constellation in this realm is Cygnus? The Swan?"

Her breath hitched and she gazed up at him through her eyelashes, the comfort and warmth she felt with him, even with the cool sea breeze, enough to make her feel more lethargic than she had in days, and after he kissed her again, she kept her eyes closed and she slept.

The sunrise woke her, and it was only once Killian saw her eyes were open that he removed himself from their embrace and took the Jolly Roger back to the docks. Despite telling her that she could stay until a decent hour, a night with him was scary because of how much she wanted it, and she had hurried off the ship almost as soon as it was docked.

He left her with a kiss goodbye, except it wasn't a chaste kiss to the cheek like after their previous times together but a long, almost desperate kiss that Emma fell into and reciprocated eagerly.

And even though the loft was heated and her blanket was thick, she felt colder in bed without him than she had when they were wrapped together and she was napping under the stars.

~~~*~~~

Despite everything else she had done the night before, Emma felt more well-rested than she had in days. She slept as late as she could before heading to the Sheriff station, determined to find Jefferson and see what she could get him to admit once he was in custody.

However, when she arrived at the station, Regina was already there.

"Congratulations, Sheriff Swan." She said just as Emma strode into the station, and Emma grimaced when the unexpected greeting actually made her jump. "I'm glad you're here. As important as this case is, I have other things that I need to do and I can't afford to wait for you to have the late mornings you seem to think you deserve."

"I can't say the same." Emma muttered in response, showing Regina into her office and then taking a seat at the desk. "Do you have a reason to be here, Mayor Mills?"

"There's about to be a big break in your case." Regina said, and Emma leant further across the desk, eager to hear every word the woman said. "You just got yourself a confession. But, I want you to listen to the whole explanation, so that you understand why this happened."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll hang on every word." She said, digging a notebook out of her desk drawer and then fixing Regina with an expectant stare.

"Sidney." Regina called, causing Emma to frown at her. "You can come in now."

Emma blinked in confusion, thrown by the unexpected announcement and then feeling even more uncertain about what was happening when Sidney Glass strode into the room and greeted her with a steely gaze. "Sidney?"

"Tell her what you told me."

Sidney nodded at Regina's command, took a deep breath and then said the last words Emma expected to hear him say. "It was me. I confess." He said, his voice shaking slightly. "I abducted Kathryn and I held her in the basement of an abandoned summer home by the lake. I bribed a lab tech to get me the heart from the hospital, and I used that same person to doctor the lab results."

Emma didn't write anything down, too busy staring disbelievingly at the man who was confessing to crimes that she was certain he didn't commit.

"And the other thing." Regina prompted, and Sidney seemed to tremble as his lie continued.

"I borrowed some skeleton keys from Regina and…" He swallowed, no longer able to meet Emma's eyes and although Emma didn't need any confirmation that he was lying, his words already ringing false, that would have been enough. "I planted the knife in your apartment."

"You do realise, Sidney, that we already have a confession for that." Emma pointed out, her brow furrowing suspiciously when he looked pleadingly at Regina. "We already have a recording of the man who claims to have left the knife in my home. Why am I supposed to believe that this was actually you?"

"The man you caught, this Jefferson," Sidney stammered, not even glancing away from Regina. "He's mad. What reason do you have tobelieve  _him_? But me… I was going to find Kathryn after the conviction, be a hero. Then, I'd get the inside track on the biggest story to ever hit this town. I'd get my job back. Plus a novel and a movie and… I don't know. It sounds crazy."

"Not that crazy." Emma told him, because his answer, despite the stammering at the start, sounded too rehearsed for her to call him crazy. "But false, yes. False as hell."

"I have maps to where the house is." He said quickly, and Emma rolled her eyes. "You'll find chains in the basement. Lots of fingerprints, I'm sure. Hers and mine. But I didn't hurt her."

"The man has obviously suffered some kind of mental break." Regina said with a wave of her hand, and Emma scoffed. Any comment from Regina wasn't something she'd take on board when Sidney, someone that Killian had once told her would do anything for Regina, was confessing something so ridiculous. "He clearly hasn't been himself for a while now."

"Yeah." Emma snapped. "It's like his words aren't his at all."

"Wow." Regina drawled, levelling Emma with such a vindictive look that Emma was hit by her strongest wish yet that she had the evidence to prove Regina was the one behind all this mess. "You are so sold on your own rush to judgment that you can't even see the truth anymore."

Emma huffed angrily and stood up from her seat. "A word in the hallway, please. Now."

Regina stepped aside to let Emma leave the office first, her heels clicking on the floor as she followed Emma a few feet down the corridor. Emma rounded on Regina the moment they were far enough so that their conversation was private but she could still see Sidney. "That was the biggest load of crap I've ever heard."

"I'm pretty sure  _that's_  not true." Regina said with a roll of her eyes, as though Emma wasn't annoyed enough.

"That poor man." Emma muttered, peering past Regina to see Sidney still standing stiffly in her office. "I know you're behind all this and if you're thinking that standing Sidney in my office and having him tell me the fakest confession I've ever heard is going to change that, then you are  _so_ wrong. You know as well as I do that Jefferson  _will_  talk when I find him and that's why you've brought Sidney here. And sure, I don't doubt that there is a cellar with Sidney and Kathryn's fingerprints because it's clear that you own this game and you've made sure to set the board so that no one else can win."

Regina looked smug, and the triumph glinting in her eyes sent fury burning through Emma. Every moment she had spent over the last few days hoping desperately that she was wrong, that Regina wasn't involved, that Henry wasn't living with a total psychopath, flew through her mind and maybe Emma couldn't win this battle with Regina, but she wasn't going to let her get away with everything she was doing.

Emma bit her lip, straightened up and then met Regina with a determined, furious stare. "I am about to start playing an entirely different game." Emma hissed, a smirk teasing the corners of her mouth as Regina stepped away from her. "I don't care what happens to you. I don't care what happens to  _me_. All I care about is what happens to  _my_ kid. And you are going to leave him alone."

"Am I?" Regina said, and Emma felt even angrier at how Regina was, once again, clearly underestimating how far Emma was willing to go for her son.

"No. I am talking." Emma snapped, reducing the distance Regina had put between them as she stepped back. "You're insane, lady. You tried to take away someone I love. And now… well, I'm going to take away someone  _you_ love. I am taking back my son."

Emma didn't give Regina time to respond, she didn't want to hear it, spinning on her heel and storming out of the station, leaving Regina and her scapegoat behind.

She didn't get too far, pausing just around the corner from the station and falling back against the wall, her breaths unsteady and fast. Suddenly, everything seemed to be changing and Emma didn't know what to do. It was all far, far too much and she just wanted to get in her little yellow bug and drive as far from Storybrooke as she could.

First though, she needed to save Henry.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Hawkeye733 and colormyheartred for editing this with me! I hope you all enjoy it!

**Chapter 21**

After her decision to take Henry away from Regina, Emma had spent the rest of the morning panicking in her car. She was certain she had made the right decision, especially after how Regina had clearly persuaded Sidney into admitting guilt to something he was clearly not involved in, but it was only just sinking in that taking Henry away from Regina meant that he'd be solely in  _Emma's_ care.

She wasn't sure she could deal with that, if she was even  _capable_ of looking after Henry, but surely she was better for Henry to be around than Regina.

Emma had no idea what she was doing, but she could figure it out once Henry was safe. That had to be what she did first. That, and finding the person who was missing a heart.

Not that she'd had any free time. She and David had gone to the cellar Sidney had spoken of and found the most ridiculous perfect trail of evidence she'd ever seen, but unfortunately, no matter how clearly staged it was, she couldn't disregard it.

Emma had filed the paperwork and been surprised by a visit from Albert Spencer, who had apparently been called by Regina to hurry the arraignment along. Sidney had pleaded guilty and then Emma had stayed with him at the station until he was picked up to be taken to the nearest jail.

But even after such a busy day, Emma hadn't slept. She wished exhaustion was enough, but after another restless night, Emma was starting to wonder if she'd ever have another good nights sleep again.

She'd left David and Mary-Margaret still asleep when she woke at sunrise the next morning and retreated back to the sheriff station.

There weren't many missing persons reports in Storybrooke. In fact, the town appeared almost idyllically quiet until Emma had shown up, other than the recurring arrests of Leroy and Lacey. That hadn't stopped Emma from reading through every single file in an increasingly desperate attempt to find a lead on who the heart belonged to.

She was also googling custody, no matter how much it scared her. She was thinking too many things - was Storybrooke a good place to stay with Henry, especially if Regina was still around once Henry was with Emma? If she  _did_ stay in Storybrooke, was there space in the loft or would she need to start hunting through the non-existent realty listings again?

The question that terrified her most was the one about whether or not Henry would call her his  _mother_? Emma couldn't be a mother. She'd realised  _that_  long ago, and she didn't want Henry to think otherwise when she was bound to just let him down.

When Killian called, Emma didn't pick up. Although she had decided only a couple of days earlier what she really wanted, things had changed since then. She had to focus on Henry, had to make sure he was safe, and she couldn't do that completely when she was still distracted by the new and complicated feelings she had for Killian.

And maybe her refusing his phone calls might make him think they were back to whatever they were, back to when she'd been denying what she wanted, but she  _couldn't_ do anything different.

~~~*~~~

Henry had called just as Emma had managed to dig a dusty box of files out from a closet in the backroom, and Emma had been more than eager to leave the dust behind and go to meet him. She was less interested in talking to August, although that hadn't stopped the man from intercepting her just as she turned onto the Main Street.

"Not right now." She muttered, in a tired attempt to send him away, but August didn't seem dissuaded. "Look, there's an Operation Cobra emergency so I don't have time for this."

"I didn't think you believed any of that." August said with a wry grin, and Emma rolled her eyes. She wanted to reach Henry, deal with whatever emergency he was talking about, and then return to sorting out everything else. "I mean, I don't think Henry has noticed but I've seen the expression on your face when he brings it up."

"I don't." Emma admitted with a shrug. "But sometimes, it's the only way to get through to him."

"You know, a custody battle against Regina isn't going to accomplish anything." August said calmly, and Emma turned sharply to face him. She hadn't exactly made a big deal about her plans, not wanting Henry to find out what she had told Regina until she was sure that looking after Henry was something she could actually do. "You need to look at the big picture. That's the only way you're going to understand what you're up against. The only way you'll know how to beat Regina."

"Okay, new guy." Emma said, intrigued by his words. She came to a sudden stop, folding her arms across her chest and fixing him with an unimpressed stare. "How's that?"

"Take the day off." August suggested, and Emma raised an eyebrow. "Come with me and I'll show you."

Emma groaned loudly. August seemed a decent guy, although slightly too interested in being mysterious, but he asked her to go places with him far too often. "Really? You do realise that you're one of the few people in this town that knows I'm not entirely single? Why would I go on a magical mystery tour with you?"

"Because, like I just said, it will help you beat Regina." August said with a wry chuckle, shaking his head exasperatedly. "And, like you pointed out, there's not much point hoping that our trip is anything more than a fact-finding mission. No matter what I think of the guy you've decided to be not entirely in a relationship with."

"Luckily for me, I don't care what you think of him." Emma grumbled. "I do care where we'll be going though."

"If I told you, you would never come." August said with an innocent shrug. Emma rolled her eyes and walked away. She wasn't going anywhere with him if he couldn't tell her where, despite having told Killian that she did trust August. "Oh, come on. Take a leap of faith. You come with me, and I promise you that you'll find exactly what you're looking for."

She paused again, her jaw clenched and then she turned back to face him. "My kid needs me." She told him with a shrug. "I don't have time for faith."

"Well, call me if you change your mind." August told her, digging his phone out of his pocket and waving it towards her as though she needed a visual example of what he was talking about. "I really do think it'll help you change everything."

"I don't  _want_ to change everything, August." She told him, finally continuing towards Granny's diner and her son. "There's  _one_ thing I want to sort out and everything else I want to stay the same."

"Things change." August called after her, just as she turned into Granny's. "You'll have to deal with it one day, Emma. Would you prefer everything to change around you or for you to change everything?"

Emma didn't answer, choosing instead to hurry into Granny's and leave August behind. Henry was already sat there, a plate of pancakes in front of him and some bacon and eggs on the empty space where Emma was clearly intended to sit.

"Haven't you already had breakfast?" Emma asked as she slid into the seat opposite from him, chuckling when Henry shrugged. "What's the emergency?"

"Yes but I wanted to have breakfast with  _you_." Henry insisted through a mouthful of food. "And shh! The emergency is  _sensitive_."

Emma gave him a fond smile, shovelling a forkful of eggs into her mouth and then passing her son enough crumpled notes to cover the two meals. "If it's sensitive, then why are we at Granny's?" she whispered. "Out in the open?"

"Like I said, I wanted breakfast with you." Henry repeated, and Emma reached over to ruffle his hair. "Who else knows that we hide the book at the Sheriff's station?"

"No one." Emma said after a few seconds thought. "Why?"

"Well, someone changed it." Henry explained. Emma watched as Henry dug the huge book out of his backpack and flipped through it to a page that Emma had never seen before, although from the opposite side of the table, she couldn't really figure out what the picture was. "There's a new story in it."

"Why would someone add a new story?  _When_ would someone add a new story?" Emma asked, reaching across to turn the book around. "I mean, we might lock the book away but it never goes that long without you reading it. I'm pretty sure that adding a whole new story to the book takes more than a few nights."

Henry frowned and then seemed to decide that when the storybook was changed was a mystery that didn't need to be solved. "I guess there's a new story because there's something we need to know about the curse."

"And what would that be?"

"I don't know." Henry told her with yet another shrug. "The story isn't finished."

"Why would someone go to so much trouble to add a new story and then not bother finishing it?" Emma questioned, nudging her plate of food aside so she could take the book in hand. The pages felt different to the rest of the book, lighter and thinner than the others, the ink bleeding slightly. "People don't like reading unfinished stories."

"That's what's weird." Henry said, reaching out to touch the book and then drawing his hands back when he noticed maple syrup on his fingers. Emma passed him a paper napkin, waiting for Henry to wipe his hands before she pushed the book towards him and watched him point to a small figure in the illustration. "The story's about Pinocchio. Everyone knows how that ends."

"Well, maybe that's why it was left out." Emma suggested, skimming over the paragraphs on the opposite page and scowling when she saw that the story did come to sudden end, just as Geppetto started making the wardrobe that supposedly sent Emma to this world. "Although, I've seen the Disney movie and I don't remember anything like this happening."

"Or maybe, there's more to it." Henry said, raising his eyebrows and giving her a look as though he was daring her to say otherwise.

Emma chuckled, finished her food and then nodded her head towards the door. "Maybe. But whether this story has a deeper meaning or not, it's not going to change the fact that if you don't leave now, you're going to be late for school." Henry grumbled in acknowledgement but followed Emma out of the booth and towards the door. "Don't think I don't remember that the bus stops here in a couple of minutes."

Henry rolled his eyes, a wide grin on his face, and Emma slung her arm around him as they stood outside Granny's. "Who do you think wrote the story?"

"Maybe it was magic." Emma suggested, and the unimpressed look on Henry's face made it very obvious that he knew she was joking. "Or Pinocchio himself."

"There's no magic here." Henry said sullenly. "But there's you."

Emma's voice was thick when she replied, stammering over her words when she tried to reply. It was still surprising to hear Henry's affection for her, a feeling that she fully returned, and she held him just a bit tighter for the few moments that the bus took to pull up at the sidewalk. "You're definitely the best thing about Storybrooke, kid." she told him sincerely, as he left her side to board the school bus. "We should do breakfast again. Whenever you manage to get away from Regina in time for us to eat together."

Henry nodded, his smile impossibly wider, and then the bus door closed and Emma was left by herself on the sidewalk.

She didn't want to always wonder when she'd next manage to find time with her son. She didn't want to struggle to spend a decent length of time with him without worrying about getting him home to Regina, the woman who she now knew to be calculating and cruel enough to set up Mary-Margaret for murder and kidnap Kathryn Nolan.

That was the only thing on her mind when she dug her phone out of her pocket and called August. "You told me to beat Regina. I  _need_ to see the big picture." She told him, not giving him an opportunity to speak. "Show it to me."

He promised to meet her there with his motorcycle in a few minutes, and Emma stared down at her phone. She wished he could tell her where he planned to take her, and the fact that he couldn't made her slightly uneasy.

She rang Killian and he picked up almost immediately. "Hey, Killian?"

"Swan?" He said cautiously. "Is everything alright? Why are you calling?"

She swallowed nervously. She didn't have the time to be with Killian anymore, not the way she had been only a day earlier, but she'd wanted him to know that there was more between them than just sex and his surprise over her phone call suggested she'd been unsuccessful. "I just… well, I wanted someone to know that I'm going somewhere with August and he won't tell me where. You know I trust him, but I know from experience that it's better to have someone know where you are and…"

"And you decided to tell  _me_ that you're going out with him?" He asked and Emma winced at his words.

"I'm not  _going out_  with him. I'm not going out with anyone but you!" She protested quickly, and she heard him exhale loudly in surprise. She was pretty surprised by her announcement too. "August can help me get Henry away from Regina and that's what I need right now. There's nothing else going on."

"I wasn't aware you were trying to take custody of Henry?" He muttered, his voice hoarse and Emma thought he was probably as surprised as she was by her easy announcement, one that had made the thing they shared into something  _real_. "Is this a new development?"

"Yeah." She answered. "With everything else that's happened lately, I can't think that being with Regina is what's best for Henry. So I can't just stand by and let it stay like that."

"Alright. Do you mind calling me once you're back from whatever mysterious location the writer decides to take you to?" He asked. "And be careful. I've spoken to him a few times over the last couple of days and… whatever it is he wants, he's getting desperate."

"Desperate?"

"He's not well, Emma." Killian said, and he sounded so worried that Emma wondered just had happened when they had spoken. "I'm not sure what he'll do to try and make you see things his way and I just want you to be safe."

"I can handle myself." She insisted, seeing August's motorcycle appear at the far end of Main Street. "And I can handle him. And now I have to go."

She waited for Killian to say goodbye and then she hung up and waited for August to reach her, considering what exactly it was that Killian was so sure August was after and just where August planned to take her.

~~~*~~~

Although Emma desperately wanted to ask further questions about what the hell August had in store for her, she remained silent as they crossed the boundary of Storybrooke and sped further and further away from the town.

When he finally pulled over at a small diner, however, Emma couldn't keep her confusion in any longer. She couldn't even conceive a reason why he might have brought her so far out of town for a slice of pie and a hot cocoa, which was the only thing she could think of, unless he thought that her refusal to get a drink with him applied only to Storybrooke. As for helping her beat Regina, she didn't see how the diner would be any help unless it's pies were likely to result in a case of food-poisoning.

She wanted custody of Henry, but she wasn't willing to harm Regina to get it.

"What the hell is this?" she spat, jumping off the motorcycle and folding her arms across her chest as she glared at him.

"Last I checked, it was a diner." He said with an irritating smirk, and Emma rolled her eyes. "Pretty good one too, although it doesn't really compare to Granny's."

"No more screwing around, Booth." Emma insisted. feeling slightly better when he looked irritated by her sudden use of his last name. "I am not a character in one of your books. What the hell are we doing here?"

"I think you know." He said cryptically and Emma groaned. She was so sick of him using words to dance around giving a straight answer, and sure, maybe the diner looked slightly familiar on second glance, but it still didn't mean anything to her. "You've been here before."

Emma had been to hundreds of diners in her lifetime, had even worked at a few, and this one didn't look special. Not enough for her to figure out anything other than the fact she did vaguely recognise it. "Well, clearly the pie wasn't good enough to leave a lasting impression."

August shook his head and then handed her an old, faded newspaper page reading '7 Year Old Boy Finds Baby on Side of Road'. Emma swallowed. She knew that article, had read it so many times that the words were fading from her own copy, but she had no idea why August had it and even less idea why he was carrying it around in his jacket pocket.

"This is the diner you were brought to when you were found as a baby." August pointed out, tapping his index finger against the grainy black and white image supporting the headline.

Had he expected her to be able to identify the diner from one blurry picture? What reaction did he expect? The article was one of the things about her that  _was_ easy to find given the right Google search, so Emma had no idea what point he was trying to make.

"So you found an article about me." Emma said dryly, one eyebrow raised. "So what? I thought this trip was meant to be about you."

"It is." He said, taking the article back from her and tracing the words with his finger. "This is my story and it's your story."

"And how is that?"

"That seven year old boy who found you." He began, starting to walk away and Emma had to follow him past the diner and into the surrounding woods in order to hear him continuing. "That was me."

Emma gaped at him, although August didn't seem to take into account that she might need a moment to process that. She had to wonder why he'd hunted her down. Maybe he wanted something and hoped she'd feel some sense of debt towards him that would make her feel obligated to help him out.

And she'd often wondered what had happened to the seven year old, if he knew anything more about her parents or whoever it was who had left her at the side of the road, but August Booth was the last thing she expected.

As was a trip into the woods. "Why are we in the woods?" she asked, stumbling over a stray tree root. "You know, Killian knows I'm here. If you murder me in an empty forest clearing, he'll figure it out eventually and he won't let you get away with it."

"I have no plans to murder you, Emma." August called back to her with a chuckle, and she had to hurry to catch up with him. "I do have plans to give you all the answers you've been searching for. I just have to show you where I found you."

"Show me?" She repeated, with a harsh chuckle. "You're not that seven year old boy, are you? I wasn't found in the woods. I was found on the side of highway. We literally just read the article."

"Why do you think that?" August asked, finally pausing mid-step so that he could turn to face her. "Because you read it in the newspaper? Did it ever occur to you that, maybe, that seven year old boy lied about where he found you?"

It had occurred to her, on days when she'd tried to search for her parents and found nothing. She'd entertained the idea that maybe she couldn't find any sign of her parents because the boy had lied, because he'd found her somewhere else and she had no way to find out where.

Emma had told herself the boy couldn't have lied, because she couldn't have nowhere to start searching.

"No." She lied, because August couldn't know how often she had thought that exact thing. "But it does occur to me that you've been lying to me about everything. And I'm done listening."

She started to storm away, but August hurried after her and grabbed her arm, his grip painful. "Yes, okay, I've lied. I didn't tell you everything and maybe I should have, but I'm not lying about being the boy that found you. You were wrapped in a blanket. The name 'Emma' was embroidered along the bottom of it. You know that isn't in the article, don't you? How would I know that unless I was there?"

"Okay." Emma said shakily, trying to pull her arm away but failing when his grip tightened even more. "Say you were that kid. Fine. But why lie about where you found me?"

"I lied to protect you." August told her, dragging her along with him as he walked further into the forest. "I've always been trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"That." He said, drawing to a sudden halt. Emma tripped and fell towards him, finally managing to get her arm free from his hold as she straightened up.

He was pointing at a tree and Emma could do nothing more than let out a crazed laugh. "A tree?"

"You've read Henry's book, right? You know about the curse, don't you?" He said, his voice desperate and his eyes pleading. "Your role in it? It's  _true_ , Emma. We both came into this world... through this tree."

Emma laughed again. "You're asking me to believe that you are a fairy tale character?"

"Pinocchio."

"Right, of course." Emma said sarcastically. "Pinocchio. That explains all the  _lying_. You're the one who added the story to the book. How did I not figure that out earlier? I have to say that you gave it a pretty crappy ending."

"I needed you to know the truth." He said, with another frenzied gesture towards the tree. "And as for the ending, that hasn't happened yet. We're still writing it. The ending is when you believe. You  _need_ to believe."

"That's not going to happen." Emma insisted, a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry filling her as she remembered Henry's unfailing belief in the curse, Jefferson's certainty in its existence. Emma knew enough to know that three people believing in the same delusion was more than a coincidence. That there had to be some truth in it,  _somewhere_ , and that was far too much. "Curses aren't real. You guys aren't  _fairy tale_ characters. Mary-Margaret and David are my friends, not my parents. Killian  _isn't_ my prince, no matter what Henry seems to think and you are  _not_ Pinocchio. But you  _are_ crazy. I don't know what's in the water in Storybrooke, but I'm sick of all this nonsense and I'm getting out of here."

"Emma, no!" August yelled after her as she started to run away, and she could hear him thundering after her. "Wait! No matter what you think about the curse, you can't ignore the fact that I need you. I'll  _die_ if you don't help me."

"You'll die?" She repeated, swivelling to face him and watching as he grimaced in pain and clutched at his leg, toppling to the ground. "You'll  _die_? What the hell? And, God, what is wrong with your leg?"

"I failed." August cried, his head buried in his hands and his leg outstretched.

" _What_  are you talking about?" she asked, watching as he pushed himself back to his feet and then staggered over to a fallen tree, massaging his calf. "If you think this is going to convince me that the curse is real, then think again."

"It doesn't matter." August moaned, and as much as she wanted to leave, she couldn't go away if he really couldn't walk. "You don't believe. But I'm not screwing around. Whatever you believe, or don't, this is real, Emma. I am  _sick_."

"That's an understatement."

"You ever been to Phuket?" he asked suddenly, glancing up from his leg and fixing her with a pleading stare that she didn't understand, didn't  _want_ to understand. "It's beautiful. Amazing island, full of pleasures. The perfect place to lose oneself. That's where I was when you decided to stay in Storybrooke."

"How do  _you_ know  _when_ I decided to stay in Storybrooke?" She hissed. "How long have you been trying to find me?"

"I know when because at eight fifteen in the morning, I woke up with a shooting pain in my leg." He said through a clenched jaw. "That's eight fifteen at night in Storybrooke. Sound familiar? That's when time there started to move forward again. I was  _supposed_ to be there for you. And I wasn't. Because despite all the promises I made, to my father and to you and to… well, others, I was halfway around the world. I got a painful reminder of just how far I'd strayed. I guess if this tree won't make you believe, maybe this will."

Emma watched through narrowed eyes as he inched up his trouser leg, and for a second, only until she blinked, Emma thought his leg was made out of wood. Except that was  _mad_.

"How does that prove anything?" She asked hoarsely, having to look closer to make sure she wasn't seeing things. His leg  _was_ normal, not made out of wood. "You're just showing me your  _leg_."

"You know I'm not." August insisted. "You saw it. I know you did. Look again."

Emma couldn't look again. She couldn't look closer, not when she was so worried she'd see something unexplainable. "August, I'm looking." She lied, only allowing her gaze to land briefly on his leg.

"You don't see it anymore, do you?" He asked, and Emma swallowed nervously. "You won't let yourself. Your denial is more powerful than I thought. You won't allow yourself to see the truth."

"The truth?" Emma cried, shaking her head and taking a few uneasy steps away from him. "The truth? One of us is losing it here and it's  _not_ me."

"You don't want to believe." August said disbelievingly. "After  _everything_ you've seen, why can't you just do it? Why can't you believe that it's real? Why can't you accept that people you care about, people like Mary-Margaret and David, are stuck in this curse and you can save them. You're the  _only_ one who can save them. Who can save  _me_. I know you saw my leg and that, what's happening to me, it's not going to stop. If you don't break the curse, every single part of me will turn back to wood. I won't be able to walk. I won't be able to  _breathe_. And you're ignoring that because  _you_ can't deal with it. You're  _killing_ me, Emma and all you have to do to stop it, to stop everything, is just accept that you're the saviour. Everyone  _needs_ you."

"I don't want them to need me." Emma sobbed, his desperation hurting her because no matter what was happening to him, she knew she couldn't save him. She couldn't save anyone. "I can't be responsible for your life. For everyone's happiness. That's crap! I didn't ask for that. I don't  _want_ it."

"Right now." August snarled, another pained sound escaping as he clutched once again at his leg. "A little while ago, you didn't want Henry either. But then he came to you and now, you are fighting like hell for him."

"For him!" Emma repeated, her breath uneven and her entire body shaking. Everything was too much, August's words bringing back every doubt she'd had after Jefferson except this time they were harder to push away and deny. "Because that is all I can handle right now. Everything else is  _too hard_. And honestly, I'm not even doing a good job at that! And now you're telling me I have to save everyone. That is beyond  _ridiculous_. I don't want any of it."

"Well, that's too bad." He said and he sounded as serious as he had before, but there was an undercurrent of anger to his words that Emma couldn't cope with. "Because that doesn't change the truth. You are our only hope."

"Then you're all screwed."

She ran, and when she heard August fall again as he tried to follow her, she didn't look back. The weight of all his words were too heavy and she couldn't stop shaking, preoccupied with what would happen if August wasn't insane.

When Henry talked about the curse, it was crazy, but understandable. He was a lonely child looking for something more, and she'd understood that even if she didn't believe in it. But now she'd heard about the curse from August and Jefferson, and as crazy as  _both_ of them had seemed when they talked about it, the more people that believed in it, the more Emma doubted.

But it couldn't be true.

She reached the diner where August had parked, and when she realised she couldn't get back to Storybrooke without him, a sob wracked through her. She didn't want to go back with him, she didn't even want to speak with him, and for a few minutes she felt stranded.

"Killian?" She had dug her phone out of her pocket and called him almost instinctively the moment she realised she didn't have to be alone. "Can you come and get me?"

"Is everything alright?" He asked urgently, and her grip tightened on the phone. "Did Booth do something?"

"Can you just come here please?"

"I can't." He told her, and Emma swallowed, disappointment filling her. She was hardly surprised that once she decided to let him in, once she gave him the power to hurt her, that he would let her down. That she was crying by the roadside and he didn't care enough to come for her.

"You can't?" She mumbled, her voice shaking. "You  _can't_?"

"I can't drive, Emma." He stated carefully. "And even if I could, I can't leave Storybrooke."

"Why not?" she asked, ignoring the desperate questions Killian was asking about what August had done and how long it would take her to return to Storybrooke and, most importantly, if she was going to be alright. "God, don't say anything stupid about the curse because…"

She couldn't finish the sentence, so she just hung up, another sob wracking through her. When he called her back, she didn't pick up. She didn't want excuses, she wanted him there.

When August finally made it out of the woods, she didn't let him speak. All she wanted was to be away from him, away from  _everyone_. She wanted to be in her own car, with Henry and getting away from the insanity that was Storybrooke.

And if the curse  _was_ real, what she wanted more than anything was to get away from that.

~~~*~~~

She forced August to pull over so she could get off the motorcycle just as they passed the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign, and then Emma started to walk the rest of the way into town. She couldn't stop thinking about everything she'd considered when she was by herself and waiting for August to find her.

The past few weeks had been insane, and after everything, she didn't want the responsibility anymore. She didn't want anyone relying on her, she didn't want to be responsible for people's happy endings, and her heart began to pound when she realised that she wanted to run.

Emma was good at running when things were too much, but she couldn't leave Henry. Not in Storybrooke. It was as she was fumbling with the key to her Bug that she decided that the best thing for her to do would be to take Henry and just go. Back to Boston, or maybe even further away. To a new city by the sea where she and Henry could be together.

"I was hoping you'd call me when you returned."

Emma exhaled loudly when she heard Killian's voice, her head falling forward to rest against the window of her car. She wished that she hadn't parked so near his shop, but it was too late now. She was sure that not only did she look as exhausted as she felt, but she'd been on the verge of crying since she'd last spoken to him and she didn't want him to see. She didn't want his concern. "I didn't think you'd care."

"Of course I care." He insisted. He sounded sincere, and she gave up, turning to face him and then swallowing back the tears that appeared when she saw just how worried he looked. How could she have even thought that he  _didn't_ care? "It pained me that I couldn't be at your side when you needed me. I'm so sorry."

"Go away." she muttered halfheartedly. She couldn't walk away from Storybrooke with him standing in front of her and  _looking_ at her like that, but she needed to. "Today has sucked and you didn't make it any better. I can't do this right now."

She spun around and wrenched the car door open, but Killian caught her arm before she could get inside the vehicle. "What are you doing?" He asked quickly. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting out of this place." She told him, refusing to look at him. "I don't want to be in Storybrooke anymore so I'm not going to be."

"Emma, come on." He said slowly, carefully, and although she still wasn't looking, she felt him step a bit closer. "Think about this."

Emma clenched her jaw, and thumped her fist angrily against the roof of the Bug. She didn't  _want_ to think about it, she'd made her decision. It was up to her, and she wasn't going to let Killian change her mind. She spun around, grabbed the collar of his jacket and tugged him into a kiss, because maybe he wouldn't leave but she could at least shut him up.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, his hand cradling her cheek, but despite the tender way he was holding her, the kiss was messy, his lips sliding off hers as he pressed desperate kisses to her jaw, her chin. Emma shook slightly, feeling the desperation in his kiss, his silent pleading for her to stay in Storybrooke, and when the kiss finally broke, Emma decided not to move away from his embrace.

"Killian?" Emma mumbled eventually, the word muffled further by how she had spoken into his chest. "If the curse was real, would you want me to break it?"

He inhaled sharply and she tilted her head back to look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed, and although the only light was from the streetlamp a few metres away from them, she could see his torn expression. "Not if breaking the curse isn't what you want. I'm certain you're capable of whatever you choose to do, be that being the Sheriff or breaking a curse."

"If this curse is real," she told him quietly, feeling him tilt his head towards her so he could hear her better. "Everyone is relying on me to give them their happy endings back. I can't do that. I  _can't._ "

"Then don't."

"But if it's real, and I don't break it, then everyone here is stuck like this." She told him, feeling ridiculous even saying that, but Killian didn't seem to find the fact that they were discussing a magical curse even vaguely funny. "And they'll never be happy."

"Do people seem unhappy?" Killian questioned. "I admit, not everyone seems happy, but I doubt even the curse breaking can fix that. David and Mary-Margaret seem happy though. I know  _I'm_ happy. Happier than I've been in a very long time."

"So if I didn't break the curse, you'd be okay with that?"

"I have to admit that I wouldn't mind either way so long as I still remembered you." He said smoothly, although when Emma pulled back to meet his gaze, she could see that he meant every word. "As long as we don't lose this, I don't think I need the curse broken to find my happy ending."

For a few seconds, Emma couldn't speak and could only look at him. He  _couldn't_ mean what she thought he did, that  _she_ was enough to make him happy and not even the fact that every word rang true was enough to convince her.

"Except I can't stay." Emma breathed, gripping his jacket tighter when he brushed a kiss to her temple. Maybe her thoughts were all over the place when it came to Killian, and maybe she was still thinking of leaving, but with his arms around her, things always seemed a bit easier. "I don't want to lose this, but this and Henry are the only things I can cope with. Everything else is too hard and I don't know if  _this_  is worth staying for."

And then Emma looked at him, slid her lips across his for a brief kiss that she felt him sink into and when she pulled away, he looked broken. "Stay." He whispered tremulously, his hand grazing down her arm and then lacing with hers. "Emma, you should stay."

She took a moment to search his expression one last time, for any sign that he wasn't as earnest as he appeared, but all she could see was that he wanted her to stay with him. To be with him. And that was more than she'd allowed herself to see in anyone since she'd been arrested in the parking lot.

"Okay." She breathed, feeling as though she was finally stepping off the edge of a cliff that she'd been looking over for months and only just allowing herself to trust that he  _would_ catch her. "Just… if this curse is real, and if I break it, everything will change. I don't want everything to change."

"I promise you, Swan, that not everything will change." He vowed, his stare locked with hers. "No curse can change what I feel for you. Whatever happens, whether you break the curse or not, please trust that  _this_ isn't going to change. I'm not going to change."

And Emma knew that if the curse  _was_ real, he couldn't make such a promise, but his words helped. Her heart was racing, her breath shallow, and she knew then that no matter how much she wanted to run, there were things in Storybrooke worth staying for. "Good."

~~~*~~~

It felt longer than only a couple of months since the storm, when she'd been dressed in Killian's pyjamas and curled up on his bed. It felt different this time. It  _was_ different, seeing as how instead of Killian leaving her to change, she'd had no issue with changing in front of him and he'd bent to kiss her afterwards, his hand sliding underneath the baggy t-shirt to rest against her bare waist.

"Are you sure you don't want to return to the loft?" He asked, and Emma's breath caught at how he looked with the soft, orange glow from the single candle in the cabin dancing over his face, his hair mussed and his whole being softened by the flannel trousers decorated with small lighthouses that he was wearing.

He made her feel  _so much_ that she couldn't identify, except she was absolutely certain that leaving the cabin, leaving him, was the last thing she wanted. "After today, the only thing I want right now, is to be here with you."

When he finally kissed her, she led him back towards the bed but once they'd toppled onto it, the kisses slowed and then stopped and soon he was simply holding her as she whispered to him everything that had happened with Regina and Kathryn and Sidney. She told him everything that had led to her decision to fight for Henry, including fears that she hadn't even realised until she was there talking to Killian, that she'd fight for her son and end up losing Henry forever. In response, Killian murmured soft, comforting words, held her tighter and promised her she wouldn't be fighting alone.

She remembered the last time she'd been curled up in his bed, how she'd fallen asleep as he read Harry Potter to her, and this time, for what Emma knew was the first time in years, she had no intention to leave.

And it had been so long since she'd managed to sleep through the night, but with the warmth of Killian surrounding her, it was easy to fall asleep and just as she drifted off, she felt him say something, his lips moving against her shoulder, but she had no idea what it was, other than he punctuated it with a kiss and held her slightly tighter.

But then he spoke again, this time loud enough for her to make out every word even through her sleep-addled state, although he clearly thought she was already asleep. "When you're ready to be the saviour, Emma, I know you'll succeed." He muttered, and Emma was too close to sleep to panic about the certainty in his voice. "You saved  _me_  years ago."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 22**

Emma woke slowly with the sunrise, blinking in confusion at the light streaming through the thin, unfamiliar curtains. It was only when she became slightly more aware that she realised where she was, in Killian's narrow bunk on the Jolly Roger, the two of them pressed tightly together so as to fit in the bed.

He was so hot, his body like a furnace next to her, but she didn't want to move away. Not when his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist and she was feeling fully rested for the first time in what felt like weeks.

And maybe she had a few seconds of panic, because it had been a decade since she'd allowed herself to wake up with  _anyone,_ but after she took a few deep breaths and allowed herself to accept how comfortable she was, the alarm faded.

She didn't even care what time it was, not when she sank closer to him and felt the soft brush of his lips to the nape of her neck. Part of her didn't know how to act, the entire scenario too unfamiliar, but she felt certain that unless she ran, and she had no intention to leave, Killian wouldn't care what she did as long as they were together.

He loosened his hold on her as she turned around, a breathless, happy chuckle escaping him when she slid her hands over his chest and beamed at him. "Hey."

"Good morning." He whispered in greeting, and she wondered if he was as reluctant as her to break the quiet surrounding them. "Are you still staying?"

"At the moment," Emma began, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw. "I don't want to go anywhere."

Killian ducked his head and glanced away, looking shyer and more surprised by her words than she would have expected. Emma bit her lip, giving him a searching gaze and, in that moment, she wished things were different.

Not that she wasn't in his arms, because as she'd just said, she didn't want to leave his embrace, but that their relationship included everything it had before, with lunches together and texts before bed. She knew it was her fault they'd lost that, but she had to wonder that if that had continued after he first kissed her, maybe he wouldn't look so uncertain when she said she wanted to be with him.

And although the idea of telling him she felt that way, that she missed all of that, was scary, she told him anyway.

"Would you rather have that than this?" He asked quietly, his hand moving away from where it rested at her back until she gripped his shirt and held him close. "All you have to do is tell me."

"No." She answered firmly, after taking in a deep breath. "I want this  _and_ I want that. I want to try and do… whatever this is, properly."

He raised his head, blinked a few times and then a blinding grin spread across his face, a sight that made him impossibly more gorgeous. Emma had to laugh breathily, exhilarated by the way he was looking at her, the way he was tugging her even closer to him. When he kissed the tip of her nose, she actually giggled.

She hadn't thought it possible, but in that moment, Killian looked even happier. "So, my love, what are your plans for the day?"

'My love' was a bit much, but Emma managed to quell the rising, familiar terror and gave him a slightly shaky smile. "I'm going to figure out how I can stay here and spend time with Henry without my dislike of Regina ending up with someone getting hurt. I mean, this war with her  _has_ to stop. So, basically, I'm going to talk to Archie. I'll go there, sort things out and then… well, if we're doing this, then maybe I could bring you some food from Granny's and we can eat it at your shop and just spend time together?"

"That sounds wonderful." He muttered, and his low tone was enough to bring back the warm atmosphere that had cocooned them when she awoke. "More time with you always does."

Emma kissed him then, nudging him onto his back so that she was lying across him and sliding her hands up from their position on his chest to cradle his face. He wrapped his arms around and held her to him, the kiss somehow slower and sweeter than any they had shared before.

At least until Killian rolled clumsily with her, her shoulder crashing against the cabin wall. He murmured apologies, but Emma just laughed until his arms were braced either side of her, Killian balancing above her.

It had been  _so_ long since she felt so happy, and to know that she felt that way despite everything else was enough to make her giddy.

Killian rocked back onto his knees, his hand inching her shirt up her body, following the path with his lips and when he  _finally_ kissed her again, his hand leaving her so he could stretch past her to grab a condom from the window ledge beside the bed, Emma decided that it was, without a doubt, the best morning she'd ever had.

Afterwards, with her plans for that day finally back in her mind after losing herself in Killian, she dragged herself away from his side and out of the small bed. As she dressed, each movement caused a pleasant ache to shoot through her, but she barely noticed that when she could feel Killian's intense gaze on her.

He said goodbye by hurrying over to her and giving her one final, deep kiss, pressing her back against the door and groaning into her mouth when she wrapped her legs around his waist and let him distract her for just a few more seconds.

"I'll see you later." She whispered, nudging him away from her and slipping out of his room before she got any more sidetracked. No matter how appealing the idea of spending the rest of the morning with Killian was, she had things to do.

~~~*~~~

Emma drew to a sudden stop and cursed under her breath when she opened the door to the loft and saw Mary-Margaret standing behind the kitchen island, a mug of cocoa in her hand. Mary-Margaret seemed equally surprised to see her, which Emma found slightly confusing.

"Hey." She said warily, because Mary-Margaret was scowling at her. "I forgot today was your afternoon-only day at school."

"You forgot?" Mary-Margaret repeated doubtfully, and Emma swallowed at the look of disappointment on her friend's face. Had she forgotten more than that, because it looked as though she had, and Emma had to admit she felt like she was about to scolded by her mother. "Just like you forgot to call and tell me that you hadn't  _left_?"

Emma shook her head in disbelief and finally took a step inside, closing the door behind her. "I didn't realise that phone call was necessary." she pointed out, shrugging off her jacket and then joining Mary-Margaret at the island. "Why wouldn't I still be here?"

"Well, I know you often stay out late, and I really appreciate the time you give me and David, but you usually come home." Mary-Margaret refused to meet Emma's eyes as she spoke. "You've never not been here in the morning and then David said you weren't at the station. I thought you'd gone."

"Gone?" Emma said, looking from Mary-Margaret to the stairs that led up to her room. "My stuff's still here."

"And in the few months I've known you, surely I wouldn't get the impression that you were the sort of person to leave  _without_ taking your things. If I remember correctly, you moved to Storybrooke without any of your things from Boston." Mary-Margaret muttered angrily. Emma gaped at her, surprised at the anger in her voice. It had only been one night where she hadn't been at home, and she hadn't realised that Mary-Margaret clearly still thought she was a flight-risk. "I thought that after Sidney's confession, you might have decided to get out of here."

"Why are you so angry?" Emma asked, running her hand through her hair and wincing slightly when her fingers quickly got caught in a knot. "People leave. That's what happens."

"People don't leave without saying goodbye." Mary-Margaret stated, and although Emma had experienced otherwise many times, Mary-Margaret was looking so serious and upset that Emma couldn't correct her. "Not friends. Not… family."

Family? Emma gaped at the other woman. No one had ever considered her to be family, she'd figured that out very quickly in all the different foster homes she'd stayed in, and to hear from Mary-Margaret herself that they were  _family_  was almost too much.

"Where were you?"

Emma fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and then shrugged. "Well, I sort of stayed with Killian last night."

"Killian?" It wasn't a big deal, at least Emma thought it shouldn't be, but Mary-Margaret's frown quickly faded into an excited smile. "You  _stayed the night_ with Killian? I guess things have progressed since my freedom party."

"It's nothing." Emma said quickly. "Really. I just need to get changed before I go and speak to Archie."

"If it were nothing, we wouldn't be talking about it." Mary-Margaret insisted, abandoning her mug of cocoa on the island and following Emma towards her room. "I remember you telling me that one night stands were as far as you ever go. Looks like that's changed."

"Who says that's changed?" Emma protested defensively, and, God, if someone had lied to her the way she had just lied to Mary-Margaret, her lie detector wouldn't have even been needed. "Okay, fine. I guess you could  _say_  Killian and I are together and yeah, last night was probably not a one-time thing, but it's really not a big deal."

Mary-Margaret just rolled her eyes and grinned. "I'm so happy for you, Emma." she breathed, clapping her hands together, and Emma decided that was enough talk about her and Killian. Emma stomped up the stairs and started to get changed, although she could hearing Mary-Margaret still talking up to her from below the balcony. "You really have changed. You're not running. You're… Emma, you're settling down."

"It's been one night, Mary-Margaret." she called down, her words slightly muffled by the jumper she was wrestling over her head. "I think settling down is a bit much. I'm staying for Henry. Killian is just… well, he's a really great extra."

Emma wasn't sure, but she thought she heard an excited giggle from her friend. She'd never considered that her relationship with Killian wouldn't just be between the two of them. She'd never had anyone who would want to get involved in her personal life and although she had finally admitted to herself what she had with Killian, she was not prepared to admit it to others.

So she just didn't say anything else.

Mary-Margaret seemed to take the hint, because when Emma returned to the kitchen, there were no more questions about Killian. "So, you're speaking to Archie?"

"Yeah," Emma said cautiously, because Mary-Margaret was still looking just a bit too happy. "I want to do what's best for him and, with me staying here, I'm pretty certain that Regina and I fighting, no matter what I think of her, isn't the best. Archie might be able to tell me if there's any way I can claim custody or partial-custody or whatever."

"As much as I think Henry would like that," Mary-Margaret began carefully and Emma raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you getting any sort of custody will calm Regina down. If you stay here, with full custody, things will only get worse."

"And we don't want any more murders." Emma muttered bitterly, knowing Mary-Margaret had a point. The only way that Regina  _wouldn't_ be involved in Henry's life would be if they left, and Emma had too many things enticing her to stay for that to happen. No matter what she had thought the night before. "Don't worry. I'll figure something out."

~~~*~~~

There was part of Emma that was dreading what Archie might say, and it was that nagging feeling that made Emma delay her visit by wandering into Granny's. Despite what had happened the night before, now that she had a clearer mind, Emma had to admit that she was curious about the boy who had found her.

She wasn't entirely sure that visiting August wasn't a terrible idea, but if he was dying, Emma didn't want their fight the night before to be the last conversation they shared.

He didn't open his door when she knocked, although she heard him call out and tell her to come in. The rented room was dark, the curtains still drawn, and from what she could see, August was lying in his bed.

"Do you mind if I open the curtains?" she asked.

"Emma?" August asked, understandably surprised by her appearance. "Why are you here?"

Emma took in a deep breath, choosing to take a minute to open the curtains before she spoke. When the room was brighter, she took a quick glance around. His typewriter was open the desk next to an inked drawing of some sort of dagger, but Emma took a seat beside August's bed and didn't look any closer. "I thought I should come and see how you are."

"That's nice, Emma, but unless you figured out how to break the curse between last night and now, then that's not much help." He said hoarsely. "I can't move my legs, Emma. Seeing how I am isn't going to change that."

Emma swallowed, unsure how to respond to the blunt announcement about his well-being and feeling guilty that she couldn't do a thing to help. "I'm sorry.  _If_ the curse is real, then I really do hope I break it in time. I just… you have to understand how impossible it is to believe in it. Magic is for stories. You know, like Harry Potter or Disney. And I'm sure you  _want_ to believe in it, because that means there's a chance that whatever you have can be cured, but magic… it's not real. If it is, it's not here."

"If's?" August said, a bitter chuckle falling from his lips as he levered himself up to sit against the bedframe. "That's some progress, at least."

She smiled apologetically. "I do believe you were the kid that found me and that…" Emma looked down, wringing her hands together. She tended not to bring up her past, she hadn't even spoken much to Killian or Mary-Margaret about it, but right then, she felt like she needed to. "That means something. I don't have a lot of people from my past. Well, anyone, really. I think you'd be a good place to start."

August tilted his head and smiled softly at her, a warm look that made Emma shuffle uncomfortably. "Emma, I'm not going to last more than a couple more days." He said seriously, and when he reached towards her, Emma took his hand in hers. "I want… Well, did you know that I went to the first home with you? For a few days. I'm glad I have a chance now to apologise for leaving. I know I should have stayed but-"

"No." Emma interrupted. "I get it. I get running and I know what some of the homes are like. You don't need to say sorry for that."

"I suppose you do. And I guess the reason you know that, at least part of it, is because I wasn't there." August said quietly, and although Emma wasn't sure about the truth in that statement, she remained silent. "And I have to apologise for that. You were alone because of me."

"We can't know what would have happened if you stayed." Emma pointed out. "That was twenty-eight years ago. You were a kid. No apologies necessary."

"There's more I should apologise for." August admitted, glancing away from Emma to gaze out the window. "A lot more. I've been selfish. I… I should have seen this coming because I've lied and I've broken so many promises and the only lasting effect any of my actions have had is hurting you."

"I…" Emma bit her lip and frowned at him, not sure what he was talking about and deciding not to ask any more. "Look, August. I've been through a lot of crap and I can say pretty confidently that none of it is because of you. Don't worry about it." August shook his head and sighed, a pained gasp escaping him when he adjusted his position so that he was twisted more towards her. In response, Emma tightened her grip on his hand and, in a desperate attempt to change the subject away from a conversation that she felt she only half understood, she spoke about the curse. "So, August. This curse...let's say that  _if_ it was real, who would Killian be?"

August laughed again, just as bitterly as before, and then he shrugged. "I don't want to tell you." He stated. "I don't think you'll want to break the curse when you know."

"Well, now you have to tell me!" she said with a laugh, curiosity filling her at his reluctance. "You can't answer like that and expect to get away with it."

This time, August's chuckle actually did sound amused. "Well, at first I thought he was the Dark One."

"The Dark One?" Emma repeated, not recognising the name. It definitely wasn't something she knew from a fairy tale, although she wouldn't have been surprised if it was something from Star Wars or Harry Potter. "Who's that?"

"Didn't you ever read Henry's book?" August asked exasperatedly, groaning when Emma mumbled about how she'd only skimmed through it. "The Dark One is a man cursed with great power and controlled by a magical dagger. The dagger is also the only thing that can kill him, although anyone who uses it for that will be cursed to take up the mantle. In the storybook, the Dark One uses his power to manipulate people and make deals with them. He makes a deal with Snow and gives her a potion that makes her forget Prince Charming, not that it lasts for long once Charming proves how much he cares. Not that it matters, seeing as I was wrong." August paused, seeming amused by Emma's raised eyebrow and dubious expression. "I'm glad I was. You should probably tell Henry that Jones isn't the Dark One, by the way. I've spent the last few days convincing him that Jones is bad news. Should we include that in one of my apologies?"

"Yeah." She said, releasing August's hand and wringing her hands together again. "I'd rather you not give Henry things to dislike about Killian. Ideally, I'd like them to get along."

"Tell him I think he might have been right all along." August suggested. "That should help."

"So you think Killian is Prince Charles?" She asked, remembering the numerous times Henry had shown her that part of Snow White and Prince Charming's story, with the illustration of the dancing couple and the romantic declarations from the Prince.

"I think it's more likely than my theory."

"Which means you think he's  _my_ -"

"No. He may be the prince, but you are not his princess." August interrupted. "The curse was cast when you were a baby, Emma. On the day you were born. You weren't sharing dances at balls with your prince and you weren't being rescued from the evil queen's dungeons. Whoever Princess Leia is, the woman that he'd follow to the end of the world, I can tell you one thing. It's not you."

Emma swallowed, because although she'd told Henry the same thing many times, hearing August say it so decisively felt different and she suddenly didn't even want to think about the possibility of the curse being real.

Instead, after a brief awkward silence, August started to speak about his past. He told her about how, despite running with the other children from the foster home, he'd been returned to care after only a few weeks. At eighteen, he'd travelled the world. Phuket was his favourite place, somewhere he often returned to, and he'd been there when he was first inspired to write, where he'd first rediscovered  _magic_.

When she noticed it was growing closer to lunchtime, Emma knew she had to go. She couldn't keep delaying her visit to Archie, despite how glad she was that she'd spoken to August and made things better after the disastrous night before.

But when she stood up, August reached out towards her. "Emma. About the curse… I don't care if you don't break it in time for me. Coming to Storybrooke has allowed me find my father again, even if he doesn't know it."

"Your father?"

"Marco. I knew him as Geppetto." August explained. "He doesn't remember me, not yet, and I know I'm not going to get a second chance with him, but I at least got one with you. I want you to break the curse so you can have the second chance I didn't have. With your parents. You deserve that, Emma."

Emma gave him a tight smile and walked away.

~~~*~~~ 

Archie hadn't really said what Emma wanted to hear. He told her that since her arrival, despite Henry's improved happiness, Henry had endangered himself too many times for the law to be on her side. When Emma asked what Archie thought, sick of how he was dancing around the topic, he'd admitted that Henry had only retreated further into his storybook fantasies, that it was Emma's arrival that had triggered Regina's fury and what would be best for Henry was for the two of them to find a way to be civil.

Emma didn't really want to be civil to Regina but, for Henry, she would.

After picking up lunch from Granny's, Emma strolled down Main Street and tried to figure how that conversation with the mayor would even start, but she was distracted from those thoughts when she nudged open the door of the pawnbroker's and saw Killian resting against the counter, his head in his hands and a few stray objects scattered around the shop as though he'd thrown them, the shop far messier than usual.

"Are you… alright?" she asked cautiously, sending Killian a smile when he raised his head to look at her. "What's happened?"

He straightened up and ran his hand through his hair, and Emma bit her lip when his hair remained mussed. "I think I need to go to the hospital."

"What?" Emma hurried towards him, only reaching halfway across the room when he realised what he had just said and shook his head urgently. "What's happened?"

"Swan, don't worry. I'm fine." He promised, moving from behind the counter to meet her in the centre of the room. "There are simply some things I have to deal with."

Emma swallowed, because she still hadn't forgotten all the mysteries surrounding Killian. She was well aware that what she felt for him was strong enough for her to  _want_ to trust him, but his lack of explanation was a reminder that there was so much he still hadn't told her and so much that needed to be explained.

But Emma was staying in Storybrooke. She wasn't  _running_ anymore. "Look, Killian, if we're doing this," She began shakily, the paper bag from Granny's crumpling slightly in her tightened grip. "I have to be able to trust that  _one day_ , you'll tell me all these things that you apparently can't explain. I mean, if you can't tell me yet or if you're not ready, then I get that, but if you don't think you'll ever be able to tell me all these secrets you seem to have, then I don't see the point of us doing this."

Killian gaped at her, shuffling closer to her and cupping her cheek in his hand. "Swan, of course I'll tell you. One day, I'll tell you everything. For now, I'll just say what I can. The hospital called."

"Is everything alright?" she asked immediately.

"Yes. And it shouldn't be." He answered, agitated again and Emma reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder.

"It shouldn't be?"

"It's complicated." He said, only elaborating further when Emma raised an expectant eyebrow. "Regina visited the man that I usually attend to. I've alway worried that should Regina visit him, she would let him out of the hospital. It's why I've continued to see him for so long."

Emma scowled. "Why would Regina do that?"

"If he asked, Regina would have to." He told her, which was another fact that didn't really make sense to Emma. Surely a man who had been in hospital for at least the entire time Emma had been in Storybrooke wouldn't have enough sway over the mayor in order to force his release? "The fact that Regina has seen him and that he remains there, well, it's concerning. He's up to something, Swan, and that never bodes well for anyone."

"Who is he?" Emma questioned, although she didn't expect an answer. He'd already told her more than she thought he would.

"He's known here as Mr Gold." Killian told her, and his entire expression darkened so that he looked more dangerous than Emma had ever seen him. "But please, love, let's not dwell on this. You did bring lunch, after all, and it would be a shame to ruin a day that had such a wonderful beginning."

He took the warm takeout bag from her hand, but before he could start walking back to the counter, Emma closed her hand around the end of his other arm and held him in place. "Okay. No dwelling. How about finally saying hello?"

Killian tilted his head in question, a grin spreading across his face as Emma lifted her chin towards him to request a kiss. He chuckled and complied. leaning down to slide his lips across hers. When he pulled back, she rested her hands on his chest and beamed up at him.

"Please be careful, Swan." He muttered. "Whatever Gold is up to, it won't be good."

"I thought we were no longer talking about this." Emma reminded him, but despite his quick eye-roll, he remained serious. "Look, don't worry. I'm always careful."

Her words didn't seem to be particularly comforting, worry still clear in his expression, but he didn't say anything more. Instead, he tucked her under his arm and led her to the other side of the counter. She sat on the floor and unpacked the numerous polystyrene takeaway boxes as Killian quickly spun the closed sign around.

Neither of them wanted their time together to be interrupted.

They sat beside one another, Emma tucked underneath Killian's left arm. Occasionally, Emma would steal a french fry from Killian's tray but whenever he jokingly protested, she would feed it to him instead. When she didn't, he would return the favour and take one of her onion rings after distracting her with a kiss, although Emma couldn't find it in herself to mind.

And everything felt so easy, despite the doubts she was determinedly ignoring, that Emma talked to him. She told him about August, about what he'd said to her earlier in the day. She finally started telling him about her experience of the foster system, and when it was hard, Killian held her closer and just waited. She didn't say much, but it was more than she'd told anyone in a long time and then, when she didn't want to linger on that topic anymore, Killian seamlessly turned the conversation towards her successful capture of several bail jumpers and a brief explanation of what exactly being a bail bondsperson meant.

Even though their lunch date was becoming longer than it should, and yes, if pressed, Emma would admit that was what it was, they kept finding excuses for her to stay just a bit longer. They shared a few long kisses, as well as minutes of comfortable silence, the empty food containers pushed to the side so that Emma could sit between his legs, his arms around her waist and his chin perched on her shoulder.

What Emma enjoyed most was when Killian decided that if they were going to be going out sailing more often, he needed to start teaching Emma what he called 'the fundamentals of piracy' and then he started carefully looping rope around Emma's finger. She should have been paying attention but all she knew was the knots name, the Lineman's loop or something like that, and that Killian was far too adept at tying knots with his mouth.

After he used his mouth to pull the rope taut, she took the finished knot from him and kissed him again, whispering against his lips that she expected a more intimate demonstration of how good he was with his mouth.

When he groaned into her mouth and tried to pull her closer, Emma knew that if she didn't stop things soon, it would be a while before she left him.

She didn't have enough time to allow herself to get carried away with Killian, not when she had to talk with Regina.

That thought was enough to rid Emma of the fire Killian's kisses had lit inside her and she broke the embrace, smiling when he tried to follow her lips and keep kissing her.

"We can't do this right now." She explained, laughing when he looked distraught for a second. "I'm staying here with Henry and Mary-Margaret and  _you_ , so I need to go and talk to Regina. I think if I stay much longer, I won't be at my most presentable when I go to see her and the conversation is going to be hard enough without that."

Killian's jaw clenched, his brows furrowed and then he shook his head. "Like I said, Emma, Regina visited Gold today. That's equally as concerning as the knowledge that Gold stayed where he was despite her social call. Regina is as loathe as I am to see the man released, so her trip is just as suspicious."

"I said I can take care of myself." She reminded him, and when he kissed her temple in response, she finally put some space between them.

"I know you can." He said sincerely. "But I fear that they're involved in something you have no experience with and as much as I believe you  _can_ defeat whatever you face, please let me worry in case you get hurt."

Emma doubted she'd ever had anyone worry about her before, and she almost crossed the space between him to kiss him again but she remembered why she'd moved away and refused to step closer. "I suppose I can let you worry. If you have to."

Killian chuckled and then finally stood up, starting to tidy away the remnants of their lunch. "My worries will be eased if you call me this evening."

"I'll send you a text or two." She promised, and then she left the shop, turning around just as she walked through the door for one final look at him and having to quell a grin when she saw he was watching her too.

~~~*~~~

Emma was still uncertain about what she was going to say by the time she arrived at Regina's large house. Her only certainty was that she wanted to walk out of Regina's home after however long it took with the knowledge that she could stay in Storybrooke and stay with Henry without worrying he was going to get caught in any crossfires.

After a few deep breaths, she knocked on the door and it opened almost instantly, an overwhelming sweet smell the first thing Emma noticed, followed by Regina's cruel glare. "We need to talk."

"Yes, I imagine we do." Regina said, and although Emma could tell that her civility was as forced as Emma's was, she sent the mayor a fixed smile. "Come right in."

She followed Regina through the house to the same dark study she had sat in on her very first night in Storybrooke, and she felt just as out of place. This time though, it wasn't because she wanted to drop Henry off and return to her old life, but because she wanted to tell Regina that she had no intention of leaving.

"Do what you're so skilled at and make yourself at home." Regina said pointedly, raising an eyebrow at how Emma had already taken a seat on the leather couch. "Now, I believe you came to see me?"

"Right." Emma agreed. "Look, this isn't easy. I think that this… whatever it is between us needs to end."

Regina tilted her head back and fixed Emma with a calculating stare, folding her arms across her chest and relaxing her expression into something that could have been considered more friendly if it wasn't for the hatred clear in her eyes. "At last, something we can agree on."

"Well, I want to make a deal with you." Emma suggested, but Regina was shaking her head before Emma could even finish the sentence.

"I'm not making any deals with you-"

"Look, I'm not going anywhere." Emma interrupted, deciding that despite her need to be civil to Regina, she could at least take some enjoyment in the way her expression soured. "So we need to figure something out."

"What?"

"This… what we're doing is a problem. I get that." Emma started. "But Henry brought me here and since then I've met people I care about."

"Ah, yes." Regina muttered derisively, her lip curling. "I forgot about you and _Killian._ "

The mayor had spat Killian's name, but Emma didn't flinch away. Whatever Regina thought about her and Killian was hardly going to change anything. "Yeah. Killian is one of those people. And I want to stay for that. But the only way this can work is if I get to see Henry."

"So you'll still be in his life?" Regina stated bitterly, and Emma frowned at her. What did Regina expect? For her to stay in Storybrooke and just  _avoid_  her son?

"With both of us in Storybrooke, a world where I'm not in Henry's life isn't going to happen." Emma pointed out. "To be honest, Regina, even if I left Storybrooke that wouldn't change and there's nothing we can do about that. No matter what happens, both parties are going to be a little unhappy."

Before Regina could say anything, there were a few short beeps. Regain stood from her seat. "You're right." She agreed. "Would you mind following me for a moment?"

Emma sighed and nodded, moving through to the kitchen and leaning against the counter. She watched as Regina put on a pair of oven gloves and leant down to take a steaming turnover out of the oven, leaving it to rest on a cooling rack.

"So, what are you proposing?" Regina finally asked.

"I don't know." Emma admitted. "Just figure it out as we go? Henry and I can have breakfast some days, and maybe I get to do things with him a couple of evenings each week. If it's alright, I think Henry might like it if he gets to stay at the loft some weekends and-"

"He's my son." Regina bit out, her lips curling into a sneer.

"Yeah." Emma agreed. "I know. I'm suggesting ideas, I'm not trying to take him away. But how can there be something wrong with letting Henry spend time with more people who love him?"

Regina rolled her eyes but seemed unable to come up with anything to say in response and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Emma decided that the conversation was over. She pushed away from the counter and started to leave, but Regina called out her name before she could.

"How about taking this as a peace offering?" The mayor suggested, putting the hot turnover into a tupperware container and handing it to Emma. "If we're going to be in each other's lives, it's time we start being cordial. I think you should take this. One of my famous turnovers. It's an old recipe, but it's delicious."

"Thank you." Emma said, slightly surprised by the gesture. She gripped the container tightly and gave Regina a grateful nod. "I guess I'll see you around."

Regina followed Emma back to the front door and just as Regina started to close the door, Emma heard her speak once more. "I do hope you like apples."

~~~*~~~

Emma met Henry outside Storybrooke Elementary, feeling even happier about his decision to stay when he grinned at her and hurried towards the bench to sit beside her.

"Emma." He stated in greeting, laughing when Emma pulled him into her side for a quick hug in response. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, there's something I want to talk to you about so I was wondering what your plans are this afternoon?" She asked, the container with Regina's dessert still tucked under her arm. "So?"

"I have to meet Mom at her office at five before I go to see Archie. But I can be with you until then." Henry told her, and Emma grinned.

The two of them walked back through Storybrooke towards the loft, stopping at Any Given Sundae to buy a pint of vanilla ice cream. Henry quickly got comfortable on the couch as Emma put the ice cream in the freezer and the turnover on the counter.

"So, I know I've been here quite a lot longer than the week I said I was going to stay for." Emma began, curling up on the other side of the couch and smiling comfortingly at her son when his smile faded at her words. "I've finally decided, curse or not, that this where I want to be. With you. I spoke to Regina and we made a deal. We're going to work things out so you can spend time with both of us. No more sneaking around."

"And my mom agreed to that?" Henry asked, his eyes wide. "You can't trust her!"

"I have to." Emma insisted, but Henry kept shaking his head. "It's my only choice. Every time I fight her, someone else gets hurt. And I have to stop that now, because if I'm staying, we can't keep fighting."

"But she  _won't_ stop fighting." Henry said desperately. "She wants you dead!"

"Come on, Henry! If she wanted me dead, why would she agree to this?" Emma told him. "Regina's just been fighting for you and yes, she went too far. But that's why I have to trust that this agreement we have is sincere, because this  _has_ to stop."

Henry seemed to want to say something more but Emma didn't give him the opportunity, reaching out to ruffle his hair and then returning to the kitchen to serve up some of the turnover and the ice cream. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I know you're having dinner with your mom, but I figured we could have some apple turnover to celebrate. With the ice cream we bought, of course." Emma told him, but before she could slice the pastry, Henry was at her side and snatching the knife out of her hand. "Henry, what are you doing? Be careful!"

Henry dropped the knife into the sink, a loud clatter echoing through the loft. "Where did you get that? You don't cook!"

"Regina gave it to me." Emma explained haltingly, confused by his reaction. "A peace offering."

"You can't eat that!" Henry commanded. Emma shook her head in disbelief, rifling through another drawer to find a spatula or something else she could use to cut the turnover. "It's poison."

Emma's hand paused, hovering in the air just above the drawer, and she gaped at her son. "What?"

"Don't you see?" Henry begged, snatching the turnover off the plate and running a few paces away from Emma. She didn't know what to do except stare at him, her heart racing. "The deal was just a trick to get you to eat this, to get rid of you."

"Why would she do that?" Emma asked shakily. She hated how not ridiculous it sounded. She'd been steadily becoming less certain in her disbelief of the curse over the past week, and she  _knew_ just what Regina was capable of so the idea of her attempting to poison anyone was nowhere near as farfetched as it should be.

"Because you're  _staying_." Henry told her. "Because as long as you're alive, you're a threat to the curse."

"Henry..." Emma implored. "It can't… you have to stop thinking like this."

"Why? It's the truth!" Henry stated. He looked determinedly down at the pastry in his hand and Emma felt dread sweep through her. "I'll prove it to you."

"Henry, no!" Emma begged, taking a careful step towards him and reaching out her hand. "You don't need to-"

Henry shook his head and stumbled backwards, clutching the dessert even closer and making a few pastry flakes drift to the floor. "You still don't believe in the curse." He mumbled. He looked so disappointed, so  _distraught_ , and Emma took another step towards him. "You don't believe in  _me_."

"No, Henry, wait!" Emma cried, fear holding in her place as she watched him bring the turnover to his lips. "I do."

"You don't. Not the way I believe in  _you_."

And then he finally took a bite of the turnover. Emma watched with baited breath, hoping desperately that he was wrong and that nothing was going to happen and then, when nothing  _did_ , she exhaled in relief and finally hurried to his side and took the pastry from him.

In that instant, he collapsed.

"Henry?" she asked tremulously, kneeling down next to the prone body of her son and turning him over. When he didn't respond to her touch, his eyes still closed and his arm outstretched on the floor, she shook him, her voice catching in her throat when she called his name again. "Henry, please!"

He didn't wake up.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter! Don't worry, though. This story is nowhere near done.
> 
> Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**** **Chapter 23**

It was when the EMTs lifted Henry onto the stretcher that everything sank in. Emma couldn't really breathe, her throat thick with tears, and when Mary-Margaret and David ran into the room, asking  _so_  many questions, Emma couldn't explain.

"Mary-Margaret, I-I can't right now." she managed to say through sobs. When Mary-Margaret reached towards her, she stumbled away, certain that any sort of comfort would completely break her. Mary-Margaret tried again, but David held her back, nodding reassuringly at Emma just as she followed the stretcher out of the loft.

Emma managed to pull herself together to call Regina, Henry's  _mother_ , and stumble over the words 'Henry' and 'hospital' before she was overwhelmed again, one hand holding Henry's and the other over face.

She couldn't stop shaking.

It felt like it took forever to reach the hospital, although Emma knew that realistically it couldn't have been more than ten minutes, every single second feeling like it was ticking down to a time when it would be too late, when Henry would be gone if he wasn't already.

Something beeped, Emma wasn't sure what, but she hoped, more than anything, that it meant Henry was waking up.

"Henry, can you hear me?" She begged, running alongside the gurney as the nurses and Dr Whale swarmed it and rushed it through the white halls of the hospital. "Come on, Henry. Wake up. Please!"

There was no response, nothing except a few nurses trying to move her hand away from Henry's, move  _her_  away, but Emma just held on tighter.

"Come on, Henry." She whispered desperately. "You can do it."

One nurse gently pried Emma's fingers from Henry's, although Emma kept reaching past her. "Ma'am, let me take you to-"

"No, I'm not going anywhere!" She protested, spinning around furiously when she felt another hand take hers. It took her a moment to realise it wasn't a nurse but the familiar warmth of Killian's hand, and she glanced up at him through tear-filled eyes. "I can't  _leave_  him, Killian. Not now. Not  _again_."

His smile was understanding, and when the nurses drew Henry away from her and through the doors into a room that she knew she wasn't meant to join them in, she let Killian fold her into his arms. She held him close to her, her face buried in his chest as she cried.

"Mary-Margaret called me." He explained, although Emma had not wanted or needed an explanation. She didn't care why he was there, but she was glad that he was. "She let me know that Henry was here and I didn't want you to be here alone."

"Miss Swan?"

Emma turned in Killian's arms when she heard Dr Whale's voice, certain that all she was about to hear was bad news and Dr Whale's pale face and drawn, grim expression were all the confirmation she needed. "What is it?"

"There's no pupil response." Whale stated, and Emma knew he was looking at the chart in his hand just so he didn't have to meet her eyes. "What happened? Did he fall? Hit his head?"

Emma swallowed. She should have mentioned it all earlier, it should have been the  _first_ thing she mentioned, but she hadn't been thinking clearly since her son had collapsed in front of her, had barely managed to pack up the pastry to take with her, "He ate this." She answered, digging the squashed slice of turnover from her jacket pocket and handing it to Whale, Killian's hand tightening painfully on her waist for a brief moment. "I think it's poisoned."

Dr Whale shook his head, although he did take the bagged turnover from her and gave it a perfunctory glance, as though if he did, he could see what was inside it, what had caused everything. "Henry's airway's clear. Did he vomit? Any convulsion or disorientation?"

She couldn't understand why Dr Whale was asking so many questions, not when she knew exactly what had happened. "He took a bite of this and then he  _collapsed_." She snarled, voice catching again. "So run the test for arsenic, or bleach, or whatever could've done this to him!"

"The boy is showing no symptoms that would suggest neurotoxins." Dr Whale said firmly, but Emma was certain she was right. Maybe it wasn't a neurotoxin, but she knew it was the apple turnover's fault and she shook her head furiously at the doctor, Killian's arms around her waist the only things stopping her from stepping closer to Dr Whale and insisting he look again. "Whatever's going on, this is not the culprit."

"Run the tests anyway." Killian insisted. "Perhaps there's something you can do. Perhaps this is because of something different, something  _new_."

"Running those tests will only rule out the neurotoxins, Mr Jones. They won't reveal anything else." Dr Whale explained. "We don't know how long Henry has and we don't want to waste time confirming things we already know."

"Don't know how long?" Emma whispered, panic rising through her again and it was only Killian pulling her closer that kept her calm enough to keep talking. "What else could it be?"

"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out."

"But... He's going to be okay, though, right?" She asked, although Whale's words about not knowing how long Henry had were still ringing loudly in her mind.

Dr Whale looked pitying when he responded. "Right now, we just need to stabilise him, cause he's slipping away." He stated. "Is there  _anything_ else that you can remember? Any little detail?"

That was too much. Emma finally broke away from Killian's embrace and stormed across the space between her and the doctor. "I already told you  _everything_." She snapped. "Do something!"

"Look, I understand you're frustrated, Miss Swan, I do." Dr Whale began carefully, and Emma bit out a broken laugh at the words. Frustration wasn't even close to what she was feeling. "But I need something to treat. And, right now, there is no explanation. It's like..."

Emma knew  _exactly_  what it was like, and she pushed past Dr Whale to run into Henry's room, where his backpack had been placed on an empty bed. She heard the two men following her, but she didn't care. She shook all the contents out of the bag, the heavy storybook thumping on the bed. "It's like magic." She breathed.

And she'd told Henry she believed just before he fell, and maybe she  _had_ been starting to consider the possibility of the curse, but now, with the book in front of her and her son inexplicably struggling to survive, she knew Henry had been right all along.

She looked back towards Killian, part of her hoping he would agree with her even though surely it would seem crazy and desperate for her to be believing in such a thing. Except when she looked him, his jaw was tense and his eyes were dark and he was  _nodding_.

She hadn't needed him to agree, but she was so glad that he did. If she was going to save Henry, she needed to know how, so she grabbed the book.

And then she remembered.

They couldn't be memories, maybe they were closer to visions, but she saw Mary-Margaret and David holding a baby, holding  _her_ , saw Mary-Margaret crying as David carried the baby away, saw David fighting numerous guards with a baby in his arm, and finally saw David crying and kissing the baby's forehead in farewell as he placed her in the wardrobe and sent her away.

Except they  _weren't_ David and Mary-Margaret. They were Snow White and Prince Charming. They were Emma's  _parents_.

And everything that had happened, Henry being poisoned, Emma being found as a baby in the woods, was  _Regina's_  fault.

Emma came back to herself, could hear the beeping of the hospital and the chatter of the nurses, and she felt fury flood through her.

"Where's my-" It was Regina's voice and Emma turned around to see that Killian had pinned her against the wall, his forearm pressed across her shoulders and his lips curled in a angry snarl. "What are you doing?"

"Do you think we don't know what you did?" Killian asked, Regina's eyes widening incredulously. "Did you think you could get away with this?"

Regina struggled to answer, but Emma didn't want to hear it. She just wanted everything fixed. Intending to move Killian aside, she placed her hand on his shoulder but at her touch, he instantly stepped aside. Emma didn't even give Regina a chance to recover, not caring that the mayor was gasping for breath, grasping at her arm and dragging her out of the hospital room and pushing her into the nearest store room.

"You did this!" Emma yelled, throwing Regina into one of the storage racks and then hooking her arm forward to catch Regina's chin, sending the other woman staggering backwards. Regina struggled to fight back, grabbing Emma's hair in her hand and tugging violently, which made Emma cry out and lash forwards with her elbow, hitting Regina in the ribs. Regina's hold on Emma's loosened and Emma took advantage of her fall backwards to seize Regina and pin her against the wall, her hands bruisingly tight around Regina's upper arms in order to stop her from breaking free. "Henry is sick because of  _you_! That turnover you gave me? He ate it!"

Regina's face whitened, her mouth falling open in shock. "What?" She breathed. "But it was meant for  _you_."

Emma pushed her, Regina's head jolting back against the wall, but then Emma released her, her own head bowed and her fists clenched. "You have to  _fix_  this." She muttered, raising her gaze to fix Regina with an angry glare. "You have to wake him up!"

"I can't." Regina cried, her body sagging as she started to cry. "I  _can't_."

"Don't you have magic?" Emma snapped, too impatient to wait for Regina's tears to stop. "Magic did this, didn't it? Can't magic  _undo_  it?"

"You... You believe?" Regina asked brokenly. Emma nodded and Regina seemed to break down even further, suddenly looking completely defeated. "The magic I used... That was all I had. It was supposed to put  _you_  to sleep!"

"And what's it going to do to Henry?"

"I don't know." Regina sobbed. "Magic here is unpredictable."

"Not that that stopped you." Emma snarled, her anger at Regina focusing her mind and helping her think more clearly than her despair had. "So what does that mean? That Henry... That he could...?"

"Yes."

"So what do we do?" Emma demanded. She didn't trust Regina, but with  _magic_  behind everything, Emma knew no one else who could help, and she was going to use everything possible to save her son. "We're going to do whatever it takes to fix what  _you've_ done."

For a second, Regina looked thrown and uncertain, unable to meet Emma's gaze and then she shrugged and told Emma the last thing she wanted to hear. "We need help."

"And who can help us?" Emma asked desperately. "No one remembers! You made sure of that."

"Not everyone." Regina mumbled. "A few remember. People that I thought would help me if they knew or-"

"Would be unhappier if they remembered?" Emma finished for her, Regina looking down at the ground in confirmation. "Like Jefferson? Or did he fit into  _both_ categories? Can he help us?"

"Not Jefferson." Regina admitted. "There's someone else. Someone who knows more about magic than anyone."

"Then let's go talk to them." Emma ordered, opening the door of the store room and waiting for Regina to leave first.

Outside the store room, she could see Killian sat by Henry's bedside, and when he noticed her, she sent him a reassuring nod before following Regina further into the hospital. She had expected to leave, but instead Regina stopped at a secure door and punched a code into the keypad beside it.

"I thought we were going to find the person who can help us?" Emma asked, frowning at the other woman as the alarm beeped once and the door clicked open. "Not... Wait. They're here, aren't they? It's Mr Gold, isn't it?"

"You know even more than I thought you did." Regina stated, glancing back at her with a raised eyebrow and a cruel smile. Emma didn't know what she was about to say except that she was dreading it. "Jones really did tell you as much as he could. Yes, it's Mr Gold. Jones and I know him as Rumplestiltskin."

"Jones and-" Emma stammered, the fairy tale name and the implication that Killian knew, had  _always_ known, making her feel overwhelmed again, as though she was drowning. "Rumplestiltskin?"

She couldn't think about it. She could question everything when Henry was awake again.

There was a green tinge to the light as they descended, this wing of the hospital seemed dank and grey. Emma had never seen a hospital look as dirty as this, and when they passed the small reception to the corridor and Emma saw the solid metal doors with the small flaps, she realised that whatever it was masquerading as, the basement of the hospital was really Regina's personal prison.

And Killian had known about it.

"How long has he been down here?" Emma asked, horrified by her surroundings. "Has he seen any one except you and Killian?"

"Close to twenty-eight years." Regina answered, unlocking the door right at the end of the door. "And Jones insisted on his solitude. If I wasn't going to let him kill Rumplestiltskin, I had to make sure he would still suffer. I had no problem with that request."

Emma swallowed. She knew that Jones had kept things from her, and that he had worked with Regina before Emma's arrival, but she hadn't even entertained the idea that he was hiding a viciousness, a part of himself that had no issue with imprisoning a man for decades.

She hadn't realised that he had been lying to her about  _everything_.

The door creaked as Regina opened it, Emma peering through the widening gap to see a man sat on the edge of a mattress, his hair long and tangled, an anticipatory, calculating, smirk visible from beneath an unkempt beard.

"You must be Emma Swan." He stated quietly, his voice dangerous. "I thought I'd be meeting you soon. I have to say, I was hoping it would be  _sooner_."

"What?" Emma questioned, glancing back at Regina in the hope that she'd get an explanation. "You thought-"

"Well, you  _are_ the saviour." He said, flourishing his bony hands towards her. "Don't look so surprised. I can tell you believe. You wouldn't be here if you didn't."

"And how do  _you_  know that?" She asked, taking a step back when he leapt up from the bed and took a few shaky steps towards her, a limp clear in his gait. "You've not exactly been around."

"Regina sends her little  _errand boy_  to me with  _so many_ questions." He spat, his fingers flexing like claws and a furious, dark gleam in his eyes. "Of course I know about you. I heard your name and I knew  _everything_."

"So do you know why I'm here?"

"I know that all magic comes with a price." He answered, his cruel gaze focussing on Regina instead of Emma. "I think you're here because you've paid it."

" _Henry_ 's paying it." Regina corrected, which only appeared to amuse the man. "He shouldn't be."

"Oh, so it's Henry you've hurt." Rumplestiltskin said with a malicious laugh. "You're right, he shouldn't be paying.  _You_  should be. Then again, I'm certain you feel like you're paying for something."

Emma heard Regina's breath hitch with another stifled sob and Emma didn't have time for the two of them to attack each other with angry words. "Can you help us?" She asked, interrupting Regina before she could snap back at the man. "Can you save him?"

His cruel grin widened and he took another shuffling step towards Emma. This time, she stood her ground. "Of course I can." He answered, waving his hand as though to dismiss the question as totally unnecessary. "For a price, Miss Swan."

"A price?" Emma repeated disbelievingly. "A boy is dying and you're  _asking_ me to pay for your help? Look, I'll get you out of here. That enough for you?"

"You'll do that anyway." He stated. "You need me out of here so I can help you. The price will simply be that one day, you'll owe me a favour."

"What? You tell me what I can do and I help you out one day?" She clarified, and he nodded. "Fine. It's a deal. Now just tell me how to save my son."

~~~*~~~

It had only sunk in that fairy tales were  _real_  when Rumplestiltskin told her that True Love was the only thing that could save Henry and when he then told her that he had some of it  _bottled_ , Emma knew that nothing was ever going to be the same.

Especially seeing as it was a potion made from her parents' hair and apparently, the reason Emma was the saviour.

But the only thing that Rumplestiltskin said that was actually important, was he'd hidden the potion  _in_ someone who Regina had hidden below Storybrooke and it was up to Emma to get the potion back. He'd stared at her, yet another cruel smile on his face and told her that where she was going, she was going to need something from his shop.

And he'd limped past Emma and Regina and led them out of the hidden hospital wing.

Emma caught sight of Killian still sat beside Henry as she followed Rumplestiltskin and the Evil Queen through the ward. He'd seen them too, his expression darkening as he started to stand, but Emma shook her head in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. She didn't want him involved with this, not when she couldn't trust him with Rumplestiltskin. Or with anything.

Rumplestiltskin knew the way to the pawn shop, walking through the streets of Storybrooke as though he'd never been imprisoned. Emma guessed that the curse must have brought knowledge of this world, and of Storybrooke, with it, because he looked so familiar with everything.

He halted outside the pawn shop to stare up at the yellow sign with his name printed on it and then he limped inside, stopping yet again to glance around the dark room until his angry gaze fell upon Killian's nautical display.

Emma watched as Rumplestiltskin picked up a walking stick from a stand near the door and strode across the shop, snapping the cane down on the display and tearing through the hand-drawn maps, knocking the sextants and telescopes to the ground, the lens' smashing on the floor.

"Stop it!" Emma ordered, not that it seemed to make a difference. "We don't have time for tantrums. Our deal doesn't count unless you tell me how to save Henry and right now you've only done half of that. Just leave Killian's-"

" _Killian's_?" Rumplestiltskin spat, rounding on Emma and looking so furious and malicious that Emma wanted to step away from him and put more distance between them. "Oh no, dearie. I think it's time to let the true owner take the reins.  _None_ of this belongs to him. He took what's mine and for that, he's going to be facing something far worse than a few ripped maps. Let's just hope that he hasn't sold what you need."

Emma clenched her jaw, standing next to Regina as they watched Rumplestiltskin search through the store, the man occasionally muttering angrily under his breath that something had been moved or checking behind paintings for safes that he would unlock and rifle through before pocketing something.

It took far too long for him to find what he was searching for, especially with each second being so important, and when he finally lifted a long wooden box onto the counter, Emma hurried over to open it without giving him the chance to drag things out any longer, flipping the catch holding the box shut and lifting the lid to reveal a sword.

" _This_ is what I need?" Emma asked, astonished. "A sword? How is this going to help?"

"Your father's sword." Rumplestiltskin giggled, glancing back at Regina again. "I told you I left the potion in someone. You'll need this to get it back from her. I do hope you've inherited something from your father other than his stubbornness."

His words irritated Emma, because he didn't know her, and she took the sword in hand. It was heavier than she thought, and she had to adjust her grip a few times to feel like she was holding it securely in her hand.

It felt unnatural and unfamiliar, but if the sword was what she needed to save Henry, then she'd use it.

~~~*~~~

Emma stashed the sword in her Bug before returning to the hospital. She had to do  _whatever_  it was that she needed the sword for, but she wanted to make sure she saw Henry first.

Killian was gone when she reached Henry's room, the plastic chair he had placed beside the bed abandoned and cold. Henry looked too pale, too  _small_ , wires strapped to his chest, and the constant beeping, although it should be reassuring, only made Emma feel on edge and desperate.

"Henry..." She breathed, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead and wincing at the cold sweat she felt on his skin. She didn't expect any response, but it still hurt when Henry didn't wake up. She sank down into the chair, taking Henry's hand in hers, her thumb resting over his weak pulse. "You were right about the curse. I should have believed you. I'm sorry."

She took in a shaky breath, the thought that she could have prevented all of this if she had just  _listened_  to him and broken the curse before Regina realised and fought back was almost too much for her. All she wanted was for Henry to wake up, to be alright again.

His hand was limp when she cradled it in both hands, her forehead resting against it as she muttered a few desperate pleas for him to come back and wake up.

She didn't think she could save him. Not alone. Not when everything was so crazy.

Emma gently laid his hand back on the bed and went to fetch the storybook from the cot opposite him so that she could place it next to him. "For when you wake up." She whispered, bending to brush a kiss to his forehead and then striding away, reminding Regina that they were meeting in a few minutes as she passed her in the doorway.

She didn't know what to do, because how could she ever have prepared for this? There was a part of her that wanted to go to Killian and tell him everything so that he would hold her and kiss her and tell her that she could do anything, and she knew that he'd say that and  _believe_ it, but she couldn't. With everything else, the knowledge that he had always lied, that maybe she  _didn't_ know him, was just further pain that she didn't want to deal with.

And then she remembered that there was another man who believed in her, who had told her about the curse even when she refused to accept it, and she hoped, more than anything, that he could help.

She only had ten minutes before she was meant to meet Regina, so she clambered into the Bug and sped down Main Street, tires screeching as she pulled up in front of Granny's. She didn't even notice that people turned to look at her as she stormed through the diner, she didn't have the time to, and within seconds she was knocking furiously on August's door.

"August?" She called out, knowing he couldn't open the door for her. "Can I come in?"

His answer sounded tired and resigned, but it was a yes, so Emma entered the room. August was there, still lying down the way he had  _just that morning_ , except he looked different. He  _was_ different, his entire body turned to wood, dark tendrils tracing along the veins of his neck as whatever was happening to him crept towards his face.

"No." She breathed, hurrying over to the chair she'd left next to his bed and reaching to take his stiff, wooden hand in hers. "What's happening to you?"

"You believe?" He croaked, slowly turning his head towards her. "You can see it?"

"I-I can but... How do I fix this?" She asked desperately. She couldn't fail August too, not when she was meant to  _save_ people. Not when he was the only one that she trusted to help. "When will it stop?"

"When you break the curse."

"I'll try. I promise." She vowed, tightening her hold on his hand even though she knew he couldn't feel it. "But I have to save Henry first and I need your help."

"No, you don't." August insisted, each word strained and hoarse. "And I can't help you."

"But I can't do this alone." She cried, desperate to convince him to help her. "It's too much."

"Ask Jones." August suggested, but Emma swallowed and looked away. "He'll help you. No matter what he thinks of the curse, he'd do anything for you."

"I can't trust him with this." She sobbed, and saying it out loud suddenly felt so  _real_ and so painful, not that she could hurt any more than she had since seeing Henry collapse in front of her. "He knew, August. He always knew. Regina  _let_ him remember and how can I ever trust someone like that? I talked to him about the curse and he said nothing. He said I didn't need to break it, even though he knew that everyone in town had their happiness ripped away from them. He's selfish and he's a liar and... This is my son's life on the line, August, and I can't have him help me."

"Emma, whatever he knew..." August managed to say, forcing each word through an unmoving jaw. "He cares for you. If you need help, he's all you have."

"Does he?" She questioned, aware that it wasn't the time but unable to stop herself from asking what had been on the periphery of her mind since working everything out. "What if he was just playing me? What if being with me was what Regina wanted him to do? To distract me?"

"Do you really think that?"

"I don't want to." Emma admitted, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes in an attempt to stem any tears. "But I can't risk being wrong about him. Not when it's so important. Not when it's  _Henry_."

"Then the only choice you  _have_ is to do it alone." August pointed out. "That's it. That's the only option."

"August, I..." She shook her head, feeling her entire body shaking as she saw the wood rise higher up his neck and he struggled to take in another breath. "I just talked to the Evil Queen and Rumplestiltskin about a quest to find magic, and the guy I thought was my boyfriend is the Evil Queen's lackey and you're turning to freaking wood and I  _can't_  do this, August. I can't. No normal person can."

"Luckily for us," August wheezed, the wood now crawling over his jaw. "You're not normal. You can save Henry. You can save all of-"

August didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, his transformation into wood finally complete. Emma gaped at the man, or  _puppet_ , or whatever he was, his hand frozen in hers and then it felt like everything hit her at once.

The curse was real, August was  _Pinocchio_ , Killian was, well, she didn't know who but she was certain he wasn't her prince, wasn't her  _anything_ , and her son, who she loved more than she thought she was capable of, was cold, cursed and  _dying_  at the hospital.

Emma fell apart, loud, broken sobs escaping her as she pried her hand free from August and then leant forward, cradling her head in her hands. She wanted everything like it had been only a day before, back when August was still talking, when she was stealing fries from Killian and letting him distract her with teasing kisses, when Henry was happy and awake and the curse was just a fantasy, but that life, the one she had only just allowed herself to have, was gone.

And if Henry died, Emma was certain that it would be the one loss she would never be able to move past. It would cleave through her and leave her more broken than ever before.

The ten minutes were up.

"August?" She asked tearfully, standing from the chair and then running her fingers over the smooth carved wood that made his face. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I was too late."

There was nothing more she could say, so she bent to press a quick kiss to his forehead, a goodbye, and then she walked away.

~~~*~~~

Emma hadn't expected to see Killian at the library, and she rounded on Regina the instant that she did, although her angry questions vanished when she saw that the mayor looked confused.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Emma asked, swallowing anxiously when Killian glanced from her face to the sword she had clenched tightly in her hand. "Isn't this an odd time for you to be at the library?"

"I was looking for Lacey." He answered, his words cautious and Emma wondered if he had any idea that she knew everything that he had been hiding. "I needed to… well, it doesn't matter. What's happening? Is Henry-?"

"What? You don't know why we're here?" Emma snapped. "I was thinking you knew  _everything_."

"I… Emma, you know that I promised to explain." He said quietly and then glanced warily at Regina. "I still will."

"Well, you've left it too late." She told him and then her eyes widened when she saw Regina lay her hand on the back wall, triggering something that made the wall rise and reveal a hidden elevator. "I don't want to hear it and I really don't have the time to hear it, so it's probably best if you just get out of here."

"Yes, you  _don't_ have time." Regina said angrily as the elevator creaked open. "Get in."

Emma pushed past Killian so that she could join Regina by the elevator. "After you."

"It's a two-man job." Regina explained, taking a step back from the elevator and gesturing towards it. "The elevator's hand-operated. I have to stay up here and lower you down."

"There are three of us." Killian pointed out, but Emma ignored him.

"And I'm just supposed to trust you?" she said, but she rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip on the sword before stepping into the elevator, grimacing when it shook slightly. "What am I even going to face down there?"

"An old friend." Regina answered, and Emma groaned at the annoyingly vague answer. She was armed with a sword and travelling down an elevator to some mysterious place under the library, so she would have appreciated something more informative. "She was one of those I gave a special punishment. I trapped her… in a different form."

"A different form?" Emma repeated, unable to stop herself from looking over at Killian and hoping he'd at least have the decency to give her a better answer. "What form?" No one said anything. "Look, I will go down there and deal with whatever it is you've trapped down there. But I just want to make one thing clear, Your Majesty. The only reason you're not dead is because I need your help to save Henry. He dies? Then  _so do you_."

Regina swallowed, actually appearing to take Emma's threat seriously. "Well," she said quietly. "Then let's get on with it."

"Let's." Emma agreed, starting to close the grate of the elevator and then cursing angrily when Killian stepped in the elevator just before she finished shutting it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not clear on what you and Regina are up to, but I'm not letting you go alone." He explained as the elevator shuddered and then started to descend. "You don't even know how to hold a sword. Whatever's down there, I can't stand by and wait in the library to find out whether you're alright."

Emma adjusted her grip on the sword again, scowling at Killian when he shook his head. "Well, I don't want you here." she told him, biting her lip anxiously when he reached out and carefully corrected her grip. "I'd prefer to do this alone. And after all of this is finished and the curse is broken, I'm going to  _keep_ doing things alone."

He sighed, ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, and when Emma glanced over at him, he looked so sad that she had to look away.

She didn't have time to rethink what she had told August. She'd made her decision.

"Emma," he murmured, and although she refused to look at him, she knew that he was scratching nervously just behind his ear. She wanted the elevator to reach the bottom so she wasn't trapped with him anymore. "I know that there's a lot that I never told you, but you knew that. You always knew that and I… Isn't there any part of you that trusts me enough to let me help?"

Emma swallowed but the tears she had managed to quell after seeing August were resurfacing again and she couldn't let Killian see that. She turned her back to him, her free hand rising to grip the keychain necklace and remind her of what she should have always remembered.

She couldn't let herself trust anyone because it only  _hurt_.

The elevator shook when it finally stopped moving. Killian pushed the grate up, stepping down onto the rocky ground and then offering his hand to help her down. Emma refused to take it, stepping past him and striding away quickly through the underground cavern.

The cave was vast, and she gaped at the grey rocks and the deep crevasse as she wandered further into the cavern, hearing Killian taking careful steps behind her. She had to stop when she saw the shattered glass coffin, recognising it from Henry's book.

She wasn't sure why it was there, but it was, and she ran her hand carefully along the dusty glass. Her mother had lain inside it, cursed with the same thing that now afflicted Henry, except she had had Prince Charming to save her.

Emma didn't have time to be distracted when it was her turn to save someone.

She took a few uneasy steps backwards, stumbling when her back hit something solid. Her hand ran across the rock behind her, feeling that it was smooth with a few ridges, and just as Emma wondered why it felt so different from the others, it  _moved_.

"Swan!" Killian's hand was tight around her wrist as he dragged her away, the two of them ducking behind a rock just as what Emma had thought was stone reared back and roared. "That's a  _dragon_."

"I can see that!" she hissed, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how she was going to manage to harm the creature, never mind get something from  _inside_ it. "Any chance you know how to kill it?"

"I assume that's why you have the sword."

"I'm not using a  _sword_ for this." Emma grumbled, handing him the weapon and then drawing her gun from her belt. "Now, just stay here."

"If you're running into danger, I'm not hiding behind a rock." He protested, tugging her down further when she felt a blazing hot burst of air around them, flames licking over the top of the gun. "I may never have faced a dragon before, but I'm not a novice when it comes to a fight."

Emma didn't bother to reply, waiting a few more seconds in case of any more puffs of fire, and she ran out from cover, aiming at the dragon's head and pulling the trigger. Most of the shots seemed to just ricochet off its tough skin, but it was enough to grab its attention, the dragon screeching and arching in response before taking off after her.

She ran, jumping over cracks in the ground and weaving between rocks as the monster chased her, hiding behind a tall column as the dragon breathed fire again, the flames catching a few strands of her hair and causing a sharp. unpleasant smell to drift past her.

Emma was pretty certain the bullets hadn't even hurt the dragon, but when she leant out and fired one more time, the shot caught the dragon's wing. It screeched and shrank back and then suddenly dropped from sight. Emma rushed towards it, her eyes widening when she saw that the dragon had fallen down the large chasm.

She couldn't have lost the dragon, not when she still needed what was inside it.

She shuffled closer to the edge, peering into the darkness for any sign of movement. Her gun shook slightly in her hand, aimed into the black void because she could  _hear_ something huge crashing around below her.

Her heart was beating too quickly, unsure when, or if, the dragon would reappear and what it would do when it did.

And then, for a moment, there was total silence.

"Emma, move!" Killian shouted, barrelling into her and knocking her back behind the rock just as the dragon burst back into view, another stream of fire chasing them.

She couldn't catch her breath, her panic growing when she saw Killian's jacket was burning, a few small flames climbing up his arm. She threw her gun aside and scrambled to help him out of the leather, calming slightly when he seemed okay, other than some reddened, shiny marks on his arm just above the brace of his prosthetic arm. "Why did you do  _that_?" she asked as she stared past him, keeping her eye locked on the dragon as it stalked away from them. "I had everything under control."

Killian exhaled angrily and shook his head, but Emma was too busy watching how the dragon was stalking closer.

She didn't have the time to wait for an opportune moment, so she just snatched the sword out of Killian's hand and ran out towards a space in the rocks, ignoring how Killian was calling after her. Shots from her gun echoed through the cavern, and she glanced quickly over her shoulder to see that Killian had picked her weapon up and was attempting to pull the dragon's attention away from her.

"Over here, you big lizard!" she yelled, the dragon turning to face her just as it rested on its hind legs and arched back, its neck glowing a hot red as it prepared to try and roast her once again. "Come and get me!"

Killian shouted something else in protest, the gun firing a few more times, but Emma wasn't concentrating on that. She clasped the hilt of the sword in both hands, lifted it behind her head and then, just as the dragon began to roar, she threw it.

The sword flew straight, striking the dragon directly in the chest. It screeched, burning lines of fire radiating out from where it had been hit and turning the dragon to ash, the heat of the decomposition overwhelming and forcing Emma to sink to the ground, arms over her head.

And then it was over.

She shook as she stood back up, but despite her disbelief that she'd just killed a  _dragon_ , she didn't have the time to think about it. Not when the golden egg perched on the ashes was what she needed.

With the egg tucked under one arm, she turned to make sure that Killian was alright. He seemed fine, his ruined jacket folded up and in his arms, her gun in his hand as he walked towards her, his gaze searching. "Are you injured?"

"I'm fine." She answered bluntly, striding back to the elevator without another word, and even after she called up to Regina and the elevator started to jerkily ascend, she said nothing more.

At least until the elevator came to a sudden stop.

"What the hell was that?" she yelled up, wondering what could possibly have happened to stop Regina from helping her, and exchanging a desperate, alarmed glance with Killian. "Regina?"

She heard the elevator doors open above her and she tilted her head back to see Rumplestiltskin leaning over the edge and peering down the shaft at her and Killian, the man beside her growling angrily up at him.

"Miss Swan?" He asked, his stare fixed on the golden egg in her hand. "You got it?"

"What are you doing here?" she replied, Killian echoing the question.

"I've come to check up on you." Rumplestiltskin answered, quickly glancing over his shoulder and then smiling down at her. His smile was cold and false, but she couldn't blame him when faced with the man that had imprisoned him for so long. "I'm glad I did. Regina abandoned you and sabotaged the elevator."

"What?" She snarled, hurrying up to the wall and looking desperately up at the bearded man. "Look, get out of the way. I'm coming up."

"There's no time for this." Rumplestiltskin insisted, reaching his hand down towards her. "You can't scale the wall and carry that."

"I can try."

"No, just toss it up." He said. "Your boy is going to be fine, I promise, but we're running out of time. Toss it up."

Emma swallowed, her hold on the egg tightening as she looked from Rumplestiltskin to Killian. "Don't give it to him, love." Killian urged, holding out his hand too and Emma inhaled shakily. "I'll hold onto it as you climb out. No matter what you think of me, please, you can trust me with this."

She clenched her jaw, his words striking a sore spot in her that hurt too much. Spite rose up inside of her, the hurt that his lies had caused still painfully raw and in that moment, she wanted him to experience all of the pain that had suddenly been sprung on her.

She gave the egg to Rumplestiltskin.

His cold smile widened, an edge to it that made it clear to Emma that she'd just made a huge mistake, and then he left. "Rumplestiltskin?"

There was silence. Emma turned a pleading look towards Killian, begging him not to say anything as she rushed towards the wall and began to clamber out of the elevator. It took too long, everything was taking too long, but she finally made it out of the lift.

She felt even worse when she saw Regina was still there, having been tied and gagged to a chair by Rumplestiltskin.

"How could you give him that?" Regina asked furiously once Emma had ripped the tape from her mouth. "You had Jones in the elevator with you and you were stupid enough to trust the  _Dark One_?"

Emma bit her lip and busied herself with untying Regina's limbs. "Where did he go?"

"Gone." Regina said, stretching out her arms when she stood back up. "He took it and left and now if Henry dies, you're the  _only one_ there is to blame."

"No, she's not." It was Killian's voice, and Emma turned to see that he was finally pulling himself out of the elevator. "It's your fault, it's my fault and it's Rumplestiltskin's fault. And I'm going to  _kill_ him for that."

His lip was curled, his expression dark and furious and neither of the women had the chance to say anything as he strode away, the library door slamming behind him.

And Emma would have gone after him and Rumplestiltskin and the potion that would  _cure_ Henry, but then her phone rang and it was all too late.

~~~*~~~

If Emma had thought that the constant beeping of the machinery had been unsettling, the complete silence was so much worse. Henry looked like he was just sleeping, except his chest was still and he was even whiter than before, the wires gone from his chest.

He was gone too.

Regina seemed too broken to approach her son, but Emma had to say goodbye.

She left Regina with Dr Whale and Mother Superior, crossing the room to stand at her son's bedside and taking his hand. "I'm so sorry, Henry." she breathed. "I failed you. I should have saved you but I was stupid and-"

Her words caught in her throat. Emma couldn't say what she'd done, how she'd chosen to trust Rumplestiltskin over Killian, but she knew she was never going to be able to forgive herself for the choice she'd made.

She took in a few shaky breaths, her lips trembling and a few tears staining her cheeks, unable to stop herself from crying, not with Henry gone. She reached out and brushed his hair away from his forehead, her hand cradling his head as she leant close to him, the perfect little boy who had found her and brought her a family, who had taught her what it was like to truly love someone.

Without him, the entire world was wrong.

She leant down, her thumb brushing gently against his hair as she spent a few seconds trying to memorise him, before she never saw him again, and then she knew it was time to say goodbye, even though it was far too soon for her to have to do so. "I love you, Henry."

The kiss she bestowed upon his forehead as one final farewell created a pulse of something that felt like love and  _warmth_. It washed over Emma, making her feel like everything was going to be alright and she didn't need to worry anymore. She pulled back, the breeze still ruffling her hair, and then Henry gasped and sat up and Emma didn't know how it happened, but the world was bright again and she could breathe and Henry was  _awake_.

She beamed down at him, unable to stop herself from cradling his cheek, stroking his hair and just looking at his perfect smile.

"I love you too." He whispered. Emma sobbed in relief, having never felt so happy before, "You saved me."

"You did it." Emma had forgotten Regina was there until she spoke, keeping her hands on Henry even as she turned to face the mayor and the growing crowd of nurses and doctors, and even some patients, streaming into the room. "You-"

"Henry, what's going on?" Emma asked, turning back to her son and placing her palm flat against his cheek as she spoke. "Do you know what's happening?"

There were some muffled murmurs and the crowd seemed to be talking, but Emma could only focus on Henry. "The curse." He answered, his smile growing impossibly wide. "I think you broke it. I think you did it."

And although people were talking and Regina was saying goodbye and making a hasty exit, all Emma knew was that everything was going to change. Mary-Margaret and David wouldn't just be her friends, but her parents, the whole town would be the storybook characters they truly were and Killian, or whoever he really was, would no longer have to lie. Not that she cared to listen to the truth.

But no matter how different everything was going to be, Emma held on tightly to her son and knew that at least she would have the one person at her side that she couldn't bear to be parted with.

**End of Part 1**


	24. Chapter 24

**Part 2**

** Chapter 24 **

Despite leaving Emma almost as soon as he had levered himself out of the library elevator, Killian found that Rumplestiltskin had already managed to put a large distance between the two of them.

It didn't stop him from following. Henry's life was in danger and although he was unsure what Emma had found within the dragon, he knew she needed it and he was determined to do whatever was necessary to get the golden egg back to Emma in time.

Unlike the Crocodile, however, Killian had been brought to the new realm with no new memories. He hadn't expected that would be a hindrance, but as he chased Rumplestiltskin, it appeared that after living in and mapping Storybrooke for thirty years, Killian's knowledge of the surrounding woods was still inferior to the other man's.

He knew where Rumplestiltskin was running to, although he wasn't sure why. There was only one place that Rumplestiltskin  _could_ be going, given the direction, and that was the well.

When Killian stormed into the clearing, he barely made it two paces before the Crocodile stepped out from behind a tree and slammed his cane into Killian's stomach. He wheezed, all the breath forced from his lungs, and he curled forward, his arms instinctively crossing his stomach as he stumbled away.

Rumplestiltskin cackled, slamming the cane into him again, this time against Killian's collarbone, pain radiating from the blow. He gasped for breath, but refused to let the Crocodile beat him down. He charged, struggling to raise his arm even as he tackled Rumplestiltskin to the ground.

The Dark One fell, his walking stick held loosely enough for Killian to take it from him and press it against his neck, until Rumplestiltskin began to struggle for breath.

"Give me what you took." Killian snarled, his lip curling as he stared down at the man he despised. "Whatever it is, Emma needs it."

Rumplestiltskin didn't respond, a taunting smirk spreading across his face even as he wheezed and attempted to push the walking stick away. Killian just pressed it down even harder, an unfamiliar and cruel sense of satisfaction filling him when Rumplestiltskin started to turn red.

"Do you feel like answering me now,  _Crocodile_?" He spat, easing the pressure for only a few seconds. The Dark One remained quiet.

If it weren't for the fact that Henry needed whatever it was soon, then Killian would have spent as long as it took to get answers. As it were, he only had a short time, if it wasn't already too late, and so he would have to get more creative to get what he needed quickly. Besides, he had nothing to lose and Emma had everything to gain.

"Killian?"

It was Lacey calling his name, and her voice was enough to make Killian lift the cane away a few millimetres, just enough to allow Rumplestiltskin to gasp and take in a few deep breaths.

"Stay away." He yelled back, unable to see her through the trees. "Go back to the library."

He should have remembered that telling Lacey not to do something was bound to lead to her doing it, and when he heard her traipsing closer, Killian wasn't sure what to do.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice clearer this time although she was still out of sight. The Dark One's eyes widened, recognition obvious in his expression and when Lacey spoke again, asking the same question, it seemed enough to motivate him into action.

In a surprising display of strength, he pushed back at Killian and knocked him aside, snatching the cane back and slamming it down on Killian's nose, agony blossoming from where he hit. "Who is that?" Rumplestiltskin asked furiously. "Who is that  _really_?"

"You know  _exactly_ who it is." Killian told him, raising his hand to his nose in an attempt to stem the bleeding. "Not that she knows  _you_."

Lacey appeared then and at the sight of her, Rumplestiltskin straightened up, leaning all of his weight on the walking stick. Lacey ignored him, hurrying over to Killian and bending down to offer him a hand so he could stand up.

Before Killian could do anything, there was a wave of warmth and  _Emma_  and although whatever magic that passed them by seemed to have no effect on him, Lacey stumbled, her hand resting protectively on her stomach.

The curse was broken.

"Rumplestiltskin?" she breathed, withdrawing her offered hand and backing away from Killian. "It's you?"

"Belle?" Rumplestiltskin whispered, limping towards her. "You're real? You're  _alive_?"

Killian didn't want to watch their reunion, groaning as he pushed himself onto his feet and tried to look around for the golden egg just in case Emma still needed it. He didn't make it more than a few steps before he felt the whip of Rumplestiltskin's cane behind his knees and he fell.

"Rumple!" Lacey admonished, and Killian supposed he should probably call her Belle now that she remembered. "Why did you… Did  _you_  hurt him like that?" Killian rolled onto his back just in time to see Rumplestiltskin shrug, "Whatever Killian's done, whoever he really is, you can't hurt him like this!"

When Rumplestiltskin heard Belle say Killian's name, he looked furious, his gaze darting from Belle's earnest expression, to the protective way she was holding her stomach and then finally to Killian. Killian couldn't have imagined he could look angrier, but the Dark One's face darkened with rage and bitterness.

He didn't say anything though, turning and limping away from Killian and Belle. He was digging through his pockets for something as he approached the well, but Killian was preoccupied by Belle.

She was offering her hand again, although far more warily than she had before she'd awoken from her Lacey persona. "Lacey," he sighed, taking her hand gratefully and watching the way she frowned and blinked, clearly confused about whether or not she was still responding to that name. "Belle, even. Whatever you choose to go by now that everything's different. I'm sorry about-"

"You tried to kill me." She muttered, her gaze wide-eyed and overwhelmed. "Before."

Killian nodded, standing up and wincing at the pain that shot through him when he straightened his shoulders. His collarbone was broken, he was certain of that much, but he hoped that the same couldn't be said for his nose.

The bleeding had slowed, so that was a good sign.

"You know, I always remembered." He told her, which seemed to confuse her even more. "I always knew exactly who you were. I know that doesn't explain anything. In fact, it probably gives you more questions. Just know that I valued your friendship and I'd be loathe to lose it, although I'd understand if you'd prefer otherwise."

Belle swallowed, glancing over at Rumplestiltskin, who was apparently still busy with the well, and then she reached out and took Killian's hand. "We were cursed for so long." She started, her grip so tight that her knuckles were white. "I've been Lacey as long as I've been Belle. I remember both. Decades of friendship means more to me than one attempt on my life. Of all the things that happened during the curse,  _you_ are the last thing I want to forget. You were a good friend, and I really needed that."

He smiled gently at her, feeling dried blood cracking on his face as he grinned. Belle's smile wavered, the woman appearing to be on the verge of tears, and then she hugged him.

"I think I'm still going to need that." She murmured, and he felt her turning her head so she could look at Rumplestiltskin. "I'm not sure how to tell him about… well, everything. Are  _you_ alright?"

"I like to think that I'd have been fine if you hadn't shown up." He muttered. "Why  _did_ you show up?"

"A man named Jefferson told me to go to the pawnbrokers." She answered, although Killian wasn't really listening. The air was changing, an unfamiliar metallic tang seeming to appear from out of nowhere. "I saw you running from the library and I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

He smiled at her and released Belle from the hug, turning back towards Rumplestiltskin. His jaw dropped when he saw the man dwarfed by a rising column of purple smoke, the mist pouring from the well. "I don't think everything's alright, Lacey."

"What is  _that_?" she breathed, taking a few steps towards Rumplestiltskin as though hoping he'd be able to explain.

Killian thought it was likely that Belle was the only one Rumplestiltskin would have acknowledged at that moment. The other man turned around, a wicked grin on his face and he flourished one hand up towards the growing amount of fog. "We're in a land without magic." He explained, his limp fading as the smoke spilled past him. "But I'm bringing it.  _Magic_ is coming."

"Why?"

"Because magic… is  _power_." Rumplestiltskin stated, emphasising his point by throwing the cane away and standing as tall as he could.

The golden egg was gone, used to bring back a power that only Rumplestiltskin could fully utilise, and Killian just had to hope it wasn't too late for Henry. He had to hope that whatever Emma had done to break the curse had saved her son too, because with Rumplestiltskin sneering at him, he could only see one thing to do that would help Emma.

He ran.

~~~*~~~

Although Main Street was full of people reuniting and talking and crying, Killian had no one to welcome him back to the reality they had all finally woken up to. Instead he hid in one of the small alleys between buildings and watched, his head resting against the wall and his hand pressed against his throbbing shoulder.

The only person he wanted to see was Emma, desperate to know whether or not she was alright, and he felt an overwhelming wave of relief sweep through him when he saw her embracing Mary-Margaret and David, her  _parents_. Henry was there with her, and Killian almost sobbed in happiness when he realised that his failure to stop Rumplestiltskin hadn't meant anything.

He wanted to join them, but with the curse broken, Killian was sure that he wasn't a part of anything anymore.

Mother Superior warned them of the arrival of magic, Killian catching a few of her words, and with the only knowledge he could have shared now useless, he just slunk away. He walked past so many people waking up and hugging and shouting and maybe the curse breaking had brought others happiness and family, but he was simply alone.

At least he had the Jolly Roger.

His cabin was less comforting than he had expected, the memories of the night before, with Emma, a stark reminder of everything the curse had cost him. He regretted keeping things from her, despite how certain he was that telling her the truth would have meant she called him crazy and stayed away.

Although, as he carefully wiped the blood away from his face, he wondered if he could have been patient. Perhaps, once he saw her, once he finally found her again, he should have told her the truth and waited for her to realise he wasn't insane. He'd already waited thirty years, so what would a few more months have even mattered?

At the same time, even if she never forgave him, he wouldn't trade the time he  _had_  spent with Emma for anything.

He was so glad he no longer had to hide anything. He was sick of it. He had been sick of it for so long. He wanted the woman he loved to  _know_ him and to let him know her in return. Instead he'd been scared of losing her and so he'd only told her the bare minimum, small parts of stories he couldn't tell her in their entirety.

When he looked through the storage cupboards under his bed, found his hook and clicked it into place, his prosthetic abandoned on the floor, he finally felt like he was no longer hiding anything.

If Emma came to him, she would know exactly who he was.

He wasn't sure what to do or where to go. If it wasn't for Emma, he'd have taken the Jolly Roger and sailed away but she'd given him a reason to stay.

She'd given him more than he thought she would ever understand.

The curse had erased everyone else's lives and given them new ones but he'd remembered every day. He'd remembered Liam and Milah and his vengeance and  _her_. He'd tried to do what he'd spent lifetimes planning, but imprisoning Rumplestiltskin had felt meaningless and had left him empty. When he saw Emma again, standing behind the bars at the Sheriff station, the same hope she had inspired in him decades before had returned.

When she kissed him on Christmas Day, both of them fuzzy with alcohol, he'd realised  _so_ many things.

He refused to dwell on such thoughts. He had other things to deal with. Finding a small mirror in one of the small cupboards, he carefully examined his face. There was some yellowing under his eyes, his nose bruised and painful, but it wasn't a serious injury.

His collarbone was different, the area that Rumplestiltskin hit already purple and agonising. Raising his arm hurt, so he dug out one of Milah's old scarves and hitched his arm up in a sling, glad that he was proficient enough with one hand to tightly knot the fabric just behind his neck.

He had some ice in his mini-freezer, which he held to his nose for a few minutes as he thought through everything. He shouldn't have let the Dark One hurt him in such a way, but he'd grown complacent. Other than a week of freedom a decade before, Rumplestiltskin had been locked away. Killian had grown used to the routine that came with repeating the same day, and even after Emma's arrival, he'd been focused on the time he spent with her instead of on the way the curse was faltering.

Now, thought, he wasn't sure what was going to happen. He knew his story in this realm and was well aware of his reputation in the other, and as soon as everyone else realised who he was, he wasn't sure how they'd react.

Perhaps they'd know him as the man who gave them free items from the pawnshop or couldn't be bothered to accept rent money, but he felt that for those with bad reputations, it wouldn't matter what they had done under the curse.

He wondered what the townspeople would do to Regina.

~~~*~~~

The mayor's house was easily reachable through the back streets of Storybrooke, although Killian had never had reason to use that way before. However, after knocking a few times and then breaking in through the back door, it became clear that whatever had happened to Regina, she hadn't been allowed to remain in her home.

He detached his hook and tucked it into his pocket before he continued through Storybrooke on his search. Despite no longer wanting to hide, he didn't want Emma to hear the truth through rumours and gossip. If he was seen with his arm in a sling and a hook sticking out the end of it, it might make enough of an impact, despite the chaos of the curse breaking, for people to talk about the replacement of his prosthetic hand.

Dr Whale was sat nearby, his head in his hands and when Killian asked about Regina's whereabouts, the Doctor's voice was furious when he directed Killian towards the sheriff's station, mumbling angrily under his breath that Regina deserved worse.

He thanked the doctor and continued on his way, checking through the windows that Emma and her family weren't in the station before he entered. He clicked his hook back into place before he was in Regina's line of sight, the noise catching the woman's attention.

When he turned the corner, she was already looking at him. Regina was sat on the cot in the cell, the same one that Mary-Margaret had spent a few days on, an amused smirk drawing across her face as she glanced from his face to his hook.

"Well, isn't  _that_ an unfamiliar sight?" She drawled, raising an eyebrow when he came to halt a few steps before the cell. "Are you sure you still remember how to use it?"

"Thirty years isn't long enough to erase centuries, Your Majesty." He stated, running his finger along the metal curve of the hook. "Trust me, I still know what I'm doing."

"Why are you  _here_ , Hook?" She asked tiredly, rubbing at her eyes. Killian had spent the day focusing on Emma, but now that it was just him and the Queen alone, he could see clearly just how much of a toll the day had taken on her. "You look awful."

It had been so long since he had been addressed using his once-familiar moniker, and it took him a moment to respond to it. "As do you." He told her, despite the fact that the Queen was still well-coiffed and neatly dressed and he was the one that was bruised and broken. "Behind bars isn't your best look."

She rolled her eyes. "So much for this world giving us our happy endings." She muttered irritably, curling and uncurling her fingers as though trying and failing to cast a spell. "At least I can take comfort in the fact that you're finally as miserable as I am."

"What?"

"As happy as you were with Miss Swan, and trust me, it was nauseating to see, you have to know that's now gone," she explained. Killian clenched his fist angrily, his jaw tensing at the provoking words. "The saviour isn't going to be with a villain and in this world, to her, that's all Captain Hook is. Then again, does she even  _know_ who you are? How many lies  _have_ you told her?"

"Only those that were necessary." He answered. "Less than you might think. Less than  _she_ thinks."

Regina laughed bitterly, appearing to once again attempt a spell of some sort and failing. "I suppose she's why you decided our deal was no longer worth honouring."

"There were many things that inspired that decision, Regina." He informed her, his fingers still dancing dangerously along his hook. "I can assure you that the end of our arrangement had more to do with  _your_ actions than Emma. I did promise you that I wouldn't forget what you did."

"Graham." Regina breathed, her expression hardening. "As noble a claim as that is, you were reluctant to assist me the moment Miss Swan made it clear that she and I were against each other. It wasn't as if you struggled to pick a side  _before_ Graham's unfortunate demise."

"Unfortunate? Is that what you're calling it?" Killian asked angrily, one eyebrow raised. "I have to say, I've seen someone lose their life because they chose to love another and unfortunate is the last word I'd use."

Regina swallowed and looked away, wringing her hands together. "There was more to it than that." She said eventually, unable to meet Killian's eyes. "Why  _are_ you here? So that my misery will make you feel better?"

"I want to know what happened." Killian told her, furious that she had written off Graham's death as more than it truly was and reluctant to spend any more time than necessary with her. "How did the curse break? How did Henry wake up?"

"Miss Swan did it." Regina looked bitter, especially when Killian couldn't hide his proud smile. "She kissed him and he woke up. They all woke up. Apparently their  _true love_ was all the curse needed to be broken."

"And I'm sure you're thrilled." He drawled sarcastically, shaking his head when Regina sent a furious glare towards him.

"I don't know how to feel." She confessed. "Henry's awake but the curse is broken. He may still be alive, but I've lost everything."

Killian raised an eyebrow, unsurprised that Regina had somehow managed to make the events of the day about her. "You've managed to wrangle only imprisonment as the punishment for everything you've done. I'd say things are going better for you than you deserve."

"Say what you want." She spat, standing from the cot and walking over to the bars. "You're not going to be around much longer. Not with Rumplestiltskin free and with  _magic_."

"You think he'll be satisfied with just harming me? Once Lacey tells him exactly what circumstances your curse left her in, he'll be out for your blood too." He warned, the words one last parting shot before he strode out the station, his hook stashed in his pocket once again.

He'd found out what he needed to know. Emma had broken the curse with her love for Henry. Of course, he'd always believed Emma was capable of saving everyone, but he was relieved she'd managed to fix everything before all the mistakes cost Henry his life.

Emma was near the station when he left, locked in a conversation with her parents, but he knew she saw him. Her eyes widened and she looked away, her fists clenching at her side.

He wished he could walk over and talk with them, the way he would have before the curse broke but now Emma wouldn't look at him, not that she was really looking at Mary-Margaret either, and David Nolan was glaring at him in a way he never had before.

Killian turned and walked away.

~~~*~~~

Rumplestiltskin was standing in the centre of the deck when Killian arrived back at the Jolly Roger. His beard was gone, his hair tamed and the hospital rags had been exchanged for a suit, but he still looked closer to the man he had been when they first met instead of the crocodile he had been in their later encounters.

No matter what he looked like, Killian knew he was still the Dark One and that was enough to make him wary.

"Are you here to tell me to stay away from Belle?" Killian asked, striding onto the ship as though the other man's presence didn't bother him. "You don't have to worry. If her happiness is with you, however crazy that idea is, I'm not going to interfere."

Rumplestiltskin scoffed, his expression darkening. "I'm not interested in knowing what relationship you have with the woman I love. It seems you have a tendency to interfere with my affairs although I won't be having to deal with that for too much longer." A cruel smirk spread across his face, his glove-clad hands toying with a small bag he held in his hands. "Did you know that Belle would make me promise not to kill you? Even after everything you've done?"

"And are you going to keep that promise?" Killian reattached his hook back as he spoke, adjusting his stance and fixing Rumplestiltskin with a raised eyebrow and a provoking smirk. "Or are you just hoping that this time, your actions  _won't_ drive the woman you love away?"

"Oh, I'm going to keep that promise." He hissed, and then he moved faster than Killian could have expected, one of his hands gripping Killian's tightly and the other pressing something into his palm. Killian didn't know what it was, but it felt like it was scalding his hand, his skin feeling as though it was blistering under the metal. "But I'm a man who works with deals and contracts and I promise you, I can  _always_ find a loophole."

"Try explaining that to Belle." Killian hissed, wrenching his hand back and glancing down at the unmarred skin of his palm.

"Do you know what this is?" Rumplestiltskin questioned, dangling a golden medallion tauntingly in front of Killian. "What this does?"

Killian shook his head, "I can't imagine it's pleasant."

"You'd be right." The Crocodile said with a venomous smile, returning the medallion to the black bag. "You should make sure you enjoy the rest of the day, pirate, because it's going to be the last one you ever have."

He cackled, the sound seeming to linger even after he vanished in a puff of purple smoke and left Killian standing alone on the deck of the Jolly Roger.

His hand looked the same as ever, but he suspected Rumplestiltskin was lying. Dread filled him, suddenly feeling certain he was living his last day in what had been a very long life and knowing that he wasn't ready for it to end.

It was doubtful that he had any choice in the matter, not after whatever Rumplestiltskin had done to him.

When he was back in his cabin, it felt more welcoming than it had earlier. This time, he  _wanted_ the memories. If he wasn't going to experience another day, he wanted to remember where he'd shared his life with people. With Liam and with Milah and, most recently, with Emma.

He tried to write something. He didn't want to leave Emma without an explanation. She'd told him snippets of her past and of the many people who left her. He might not be able to prevent himself from being another on that list, but he wasn't going to let her wonder where and why he'd gone.

That was if she even still cared for him.

She had shared too much for him to believe she didn't, but he was certain that whatever feelings she did have would be walled away now that she believed he'd been dishonest throughout their entire complicated relationship.

The letter was meant to be finished with a declaration of love, so that Emma would know that he had loved her, but he couldn't write the words. His hand burnt before he could, the ink pen dropping from his hand and when he turned his palm up, he saw a symbol blistering his skin.

"Jones?" It was Emma who called his name, the last person he had expected to hear. He cursed, shoving the unfinished letter into a nearby drawer before he hastened towards the deck, his hook hidden behind his back.

Emma looked as uneasy as he expected, her arms held stiffly at her side and her gaze fixed towards the horizon instead of at anything on the Jolly Roger. Perhaps she couldn't help but think of the evening they'd spent together on deck if she looked at the ship.

He knew he couldn't forget that night.

"Well…" Killian said, watching how she jumped when she heard his voice. "This is a surprise."

She swallowed and looked at him, her gaze colder than it had been in months. He could tell that it was forced, able to read the masked concern in her eyes as she glanced over him, her eyes lingering over the sling and the bruises on his face. "Who are you?" She bit out, her hostile tone hurting him more than anything else had that day. "Why did you spend so many years pretending you were just as cursed as everyone else?"

"Straight to the point, aren't you?" He stated, crossing the gap between the two of them. "Look, Emma… if I had spoken to you of the truth, would you have believed me or would you have called me mad?"

Emma bit her lip and didn't answer. Killian knew what her reply would be. He'd heard her reactions to Jefferson's and August's claims and he doubted it would have been any different if he was the one talking about the curse.

"Who  _are_ you?" she repeated. "Afraid to tell me?"

"I'm Killian Jones." He said gently, but Emma just rolled her eyes and took a step away from him. "I'm the same man I was yesterday."

He reached for her, wanting to reassure her that despite all the changes that the curse breaking had wrought, he remained the same, but his movement had revealed his hook. Emma was staring at it, her mouth open and disbelief clear on her face.

"Captain Hook?" She breathed, stumbling away from him and stopping only when she reached the railing of the ship. "But that… you're not in the book? You're  _Captain Hook_? This is mad!"

"I have one hand and I live on a pirate ship. Is it really that much of a surprise?" He pointed out. He knew why she was surprised. Henry had told him enough of his theories about him being Prince Charles and Killian had to admit he hadn't done too much to dissuade him. "Come on, Emma."

It looked as though the realisation was too much for her, her eyes still wide and her mouth still gaping, and then she shook her head. "God, I had wanted to  _try_ with you." she muttered, and he thought she was talking to herself more than him. "I  _did_ try with you. But… I didn't realise how much you were keeping from me."

"Emma, I-"

"I've spent my entire life being lied to and betrayed and I  _told_ you that." She was angry now and Killian was unable to even get a word in, despite needing to correct what she seemed to believe. "You still lied. You just stood there and let me believe that  _maybe_ you were a prince, because you kind of seemed like one sometimes, when really all you are is a  _villain_."

"Please, Emma." He interrupted, moving closer and feeling very grateful when this time she didn't move away. "Let me-"

"No. I'm done." She snapped. "I knew I'd get hurt and I did and I'm not risking anything more with  _you_."

She tried to storm away, but Killian refused to let her walk away without knowing everything. She deserved to know that much before she made any decision, even if in the end it made no difference.

He caught her wrist with the hook, and that movement was enough to halt her in her tracks. "The  _lies_?" He repeated, and he was aware that he sounded desperate, but he couldn't let her leave yet. Especially not if this was the last time he might ever see her. "I told you more than I've told anyone in centuries. You're the only soul  _alive_ who knows of Milah and Liam."

"And how can I trust that they were real?" Emma pleaded. "I don't know what's real anymore."

"They were real." He promised. For a second, she searched his gaze but when she saw no lie, Emma visibly relaxed, her body swaying slightly towards him when their eyes met. "What I told you about them was all true, but I admit I did leave a few details out. Look, I want you to understand. That is, if you're willing to listen."

Emma swallowed nervously, pulling her gaze away from his to glance down at the hook again, and then, to Killian's relief, she nodded.

"Before the curse, I asked Regina to let me remember. I had found out that the curse meant that most affected by it would remember nothing of their true lives. With my need for revenge on Rumplestiltskin, I was adamant that the same fate would not await me. I  _needed_ to remember. She agreed on the condition that I would assist her in the new realm." He explained. Emma folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by the decision he had made so many years earlier. "Once we got here and Rumplestiltskin was powerless, I tried to do what I had been attempting for so long. Regina, however, decided that losing the knowledge that Rumplestiltskin had would be… unwise. I honoured our deal and we compromised, locking him up underneath the hospital. Afterwards, I had thought I'd feel  _something_ but I was just empty. I spent twenty-eight years trapped in timelessness again, just waiting for something to change and-"

"And then I came." She interrupted, as though she knew what he was going to say. Emma looked more confused than before, and he supposed he had alluded to a lot of things that he still hadn't explained but he didn't have the time for details. "And things changed."

"Yes." He admitted. "It became even more important for Rumplestiltskin to remain locked up, because if the curse was weakening the way it appeared to be, he could be dangerous. If he remembered and escaped, people I cared about would be in danger. Lacey and, most importantly,  _you_."

"Me?" She questioned, but then she seemed to decide that the answer wasn't important. "Look, why would anyone be in danger? Why was revenge so important to you?"

He exhaled shakily, his fingers dancing nervously and then he released her wrist and looked away. He couldn't look at her as he spoke. "The woman I loved. Milah. He killed her. He tore her heart out and  _crushed_ it in front of me, the same way that Regina killed Graham except I not only saw  _her_ crumble but I saw her heart turn to dust and scatter to the winds."

Emma's fingers brushed gently against his arm, where his tattoo was, until he mentioned Graham. He raised his head to look at her, and he grimaced when he saw the terse, angry expression on her face.

"Regina did  _what_?"

She pushed him aside, striding back towards the dock, but Killian wasn't done. He still had one final thing he had to tell her.

This time, when he grabbed her, he tugged her into a kiss, his lips pressed against hers in a desperate goodbye. She stiffened, just for a moment, and then she was clutching at his collar and holding him to her, her entire body pressed against his. He let his hand drop from her arm so that his could circle her body and then he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers and his palm against her cheek.

"Everything I ever said to you about my feelings was the truth." He insisted, his lips brushing hers with every word. Her breath was shallow, her eyes closed and she looked so  _sad_. He wanted to make things better, although he didn't think he could. "I'm sorry I'll never get the chance to tell you anything more. I really did want-"

"Never get the chance?" She repeated breathlessly, and he didn't explain. He just kissed her again, holding her close and trying to make her know everything he felt for her just through his kiss.

Once again, she sank towards him for a brief moment, her hands flat against his chest, but when he dragged his lips from hers to start trailing kisses along her jaw, she wrenched herself out of his arms. She shook her head a few times, as though attempting to clear her mind, and she swallowed, looked away and ran.

"Goodbye." He called after her, his voice breaking midway through the word, and she paused. Emma looked over her shoulder, her gaze locking with his for what Killian felt was bound to be the last time, but she didn't stop retreating.

When she was gone, he fell to his knees and hoped that one day, she'd understand.

~~~*~~~

Despite the feeling that searching for a way out of whatever destiny Rumplestiltskin had forced onto him was useless, there were too many things he wanted to live for, so that Killian could not simply wait for that destiny to arrive. He'd spent a few hours at the library, searching for anything that might explain what the mark on his hand meant, and all he'd found was that it drew the wrath of the Qui Shen and that it was apparently unavoidable.

He didn't want to spend his last hours at the library, so he had returned to the Jolly Roger, sat on the floor beside his bunk and awaited his fate.

In his long life, he'd always had the occasional days where he felt like he'd been alive too long. During the curse, before Emma, he'd had many of them. Days where he felt empty and meaningless, his aim in life as close to being fulfilled as it could be and yet feeling pointless, and with everyone else reliving the same day over and over again, he had wondered if anyone would even care if he was no longer around the following day.

On those days, he'd remembered his slightly hazy memories of a beautiful, blonde woman and a kiss that brought  _hope_ back, and he'd kept going.

His ship shook ominously, and for a moment he considered the idea that his destiny would be to go down with her as she sank beneath the Storybrooke docks, but that wouldn't be a fate Rumplestiltskin wanted for him.

In that moment, the windows of the cabin shattered, glass raining down on him, a few shards managing to cut his skin as they fell, and then the Qui Shen was there.

It floated above him, its bony arms outstretched and its face, if it had one, covered by a tattered, dark cloak. Killian tried to force it away, swiping at the monster with his hook, but it just moved quickly beyond his reach and then darted closer, its hand outstretched.

Everything suddenly grew hazy and cold, Killian's view of the cabin becoming a blur as the creature bore down on him and then all he felt was pain, as though he was being ripped in two but he couldn't scream.

There was a noise and then it stopped, just for a moment, and he saw Emma and her parents standing in the doorway of the cabin. The lull in the attack didn't last long though, the wraith swooping down on him and then he was in agony once more.

Suddenly, there was red and heat and  _Emma_ , her shaking hands running along his arms and stroking his cheek, brushing away traces of liquid that he couldn't say how they had gotten there. "Are you alright?" she murmured, and he twisted to see a burning creature drifting away from the ship. "I kind of threw your rum at it and then David set it on fire, but you either lost your rum or your life and that choice was pretty easy to make."

"You're here." He breathed, turning his head to kiss her palm, but the affection seemed to prompt her to pull away. "How did you know?"

"That thing wasn't exactly subtle." She pointed out. "Besides, I was talking to Rumplestiltskin about the magic he brought and he implied he'd sentenced you to something worse than death and I…"

Emma's voice trailed off, and she walked back to her parents' side. They were all watching him warily, as though expecting him to suddenly attack them or be the character they knew from the stories and old cartoons, so he distracted himself by looking back down at his hand.

The mark was still there, still blistered into his skin.

"What's that?" Emma asked. He held out his hand towards her and although David tried to hold her back, she nudged her father's hand aside and returned to him, tracing the mark gently with her finger and apologising when he winced. "Is that why the thing attacked you? Shouldn't it be gone?"

"Whatever you did to the thing, I doubt you killed it." Killian mumbled bitterly. "You can't escape destiny."

Emma shook her head. "No. We're going to stop it. We'll figure out what it is and we'll stop it." she promised. "I'm not going to lose you to a Dementor, okay?"

He laughed hoarsely, and Emma's lips quirked into the first smile he'd seen her wear since their lunch. It had been so long ago that he read Harry Potter to her, but he would always fondly recall that night and how warm and sleepy her smile had been.

"If it goes for whoever's marked with that thing," David suggested loudly, and Emma dropped his hand as though she didn't want David to see any trace of tenderness between the two of them. Killian supposed that their feelings on Emma's relationship with him were probably quite different now they remembered the truth. "Why don't we just chop his hand off and see what happens then?"

"Thanks, mate." Killian drawled. "I appreciate the suggestion but I'd rather we try another way."

"Right, well, how are we going to do this?" Mary-Margaret asked, crossing the small cabin to stand beside Emma. "Rumplestiltskin might know what to do, so we could ask-"

"He's not going to help." Emma interrupted, helping Killian stand up and then immediately dropping her hand from his once he was upright. "Rumplestiltskin did this. He's not going to undo it. Is there anyone else who might know a way? Solving magical problems like this isn't exactly a strength of mine."

Mary-Margaret and David exchanged a look, having a silent conversation that ended with David sighing and grimacing. "Well, there's Regina." He suggested. "She might know about something we can do."

"Not Regina." Emma snapped. "I told you what she did. To Graham. We can't trust her with the life of someone else I… Is there no one else?"

"And that's one of the reasons we're keeping her locked up." David said gently. "But I can't think of anyone else."

"She'll help." Killian said hopefully. "If she helps save me, she'll show Rumplestiltskin that she can ruin his plans and given that it's likely his anger will next be pointed at her, that's something she'll want him to know."

His words seemed to persuade Emma, because she started walking towards the cabin door. "I suppose we can at least trust her to look out for herself." She mumbled angrily, her ire visibly fading when Killian rushed over to open the door for her. "She better be able to fix this."

The group of them hurried from the docks to the Sheriff station, none of them exchanging a word as they walked through the dark, empty streets of Storybrooke. Killian had been in the Jolly Roger when the wraith passed through town and he was horrified to see the damage it had wrought on its way to him.

" _What_ is going on?" Regina snapped the instant they hurried into the station, turning away from the small barred window in her cell. "I'm in this cell for a few hours and Storybrooke literally starts to fall apart. It's comforting to see you're as incompetent as I remember."

"Something's after… Hook." Emma told her, faltering when she reached his name. "Rumplestiltskin's done something to him and you're going to help us because if it succeeds and takes his soul, I'm pretty certain Rumplestiltskin will be after you next."

"His soul?" Regina repeated, frowning when Killian waved his burnt hand towards her. "I don't even know what could do that and I  _certainly_ don't know how to help you escape it."

"Well, you better think of something." Emma snapped. "Because if not, I might happily stand aside when the wraith arrives for you."

Regina shook her head in disbelief. "The only thing I can think of is sending it somewhere that it can't hurt anyone."

"How would we do that?" Killian asked. "Do we just try and send it out of town and hope the lack of magic kills it?"

"We can't do that." Emma said before Regina could respond. "Leaving Storybrooke caused enough issues when there wasn't magic. Hook couldn't leave before, and now there is magic, things might be even stranger. The only way that wraith leaves Storybrooke is if Hook does and that's not happening. What did  _you_ mean when you suggested that?"

Regina grimaced, and then took a deep breath. "There's a hat in my office. With magic, it has the power to travel between realms."

"Jefferson's hat." Emma muttered. "Of course you have it. I'm guessing  _he_ doesn't know."

"No, he doesn't. Right now, that shouldn't be your top concern." The mayor said with a shrug. "We didn't go back to the Enchanted Forest because it doesn't exist anymore. If you use that portal and send the wraith through, it should no longer exist too. We have magic now. It should work."

"You say that, but we all saw that whatever magic Rumplestiltskin brought is different. I mean, you can't use it." David pointed out, and Regina curled her lip but otherwise ignored him. "Still, it's all we have. Where is it?"

"By my desk." Regina told them. "Now let me out and I can help you."

"You're not going anywhere." Emma told her. "But thanks for the help. And if that hat  _isn't_ where you say it is, then I'm going to hold you and Rumplestiltskin personally responsible for whatever happens to Hook and trust me when I say you don't want that to happen."

~~~*~~~

The hat was easy enough to find, the box right where Regina had said it was. David had his sword strapped to his side, Emma having given it to him, and after the effectiveness of the fire earlier, they were all armed with torches and lighters.

Killian knew the wraith was coming because the mark on his hand was stinging again, so he hurried over to Emma and helped her get the hat out of the box. She ran her hands over it, both outside and inside as she looked for any sign that it wasn't just a usual hat.

"How the hell does this even work?" she muttered under her breath, looking up at him urgently when the door shook. "It's a  _hat_."

"I've seen it work before." Killian reassured her. "I've used it."

"So what do I-?"

Emma didn't get to finish, because the door blew up open and the wraith was there again. David leapt towards it, waving a burning broom threateningly. It kept the creature away, but it moved too fast for David to actually burn it.

Killian felt Mary-Margaret seize him and pull him back just as Emma ran towards the wraith with the hat. She sat in the centre of the office, clearly uncertain about how to get the hat to work, but David was shouting that he couldn't keep the wraith back for much longer, and they didn't have much time.

Killian wanted to help and he struggled against Mary-Margaret's hold, but each movement sent painful twinges through his injured arm. "You can't help." Mary-Margaret hissed in his ear, her own gaze fixed on her husband and daughter. "Emma made me promise to keep you away from the wraith."

"Spin it!" He yelled out. He would do what Emma wanted and stay back, but he wasn't going to remain quiet when he could say something to help her. "When I travelled through it, Regina spun it and the portal opened!"

Emma glanced back towards him, just as the wraith knocked David aside and started to cross over towards Killian.

"Hey!" Emma called out, trying to pull the wraith's attention but Killian knew that it was pointless. "Over here!"

It felt like the wind picked up as the creature swept towards Emma, and Killian tried to snatch one of the lighters from Mary-Margaret. She gripped him tighter, another lacing of pain shooting up his arm and then Emma spun the hat. Her touch seemed to be enough to make purple smoke start to whirl out from the purple lining, and then Emma stumbled away, the hat growing so large that it forced her to step back.

The vortex caught the monster in its wake, pulling it into oblivion and then, just before it was consumed by the portal, it reached out and closed its hand around Emma's ankle, tugging her to the floor and dragging her back towards the vortex.

Killian noticed first and he shouted her name, shoving Mary-Margaret away and not caring that she was pushed to the floor. He hurried towards Emma, reaching his hand out in an attempt to grab hers. Their fingers brushed and she cried his name, her arm outstretched as far she could, but he couldn't get a hold.

A second later, she was gone.

"No!" David had thrown his torch aside and was racing towards the open portal, but Killian was barely paying attention. Emma had fallen through the portal and he wasn't going to let her go to wherever that portal was alone.

He jumped through.

Killian opened his eyes to blinding sunlight and when he sat up, he saw Emma and David sprawled either side of him. His hand was still sore and blistered, his collarbone throbbing, and all Killian knew was that he was no longer in Storybrooke.

Neither was the wraith.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, Hawkeye733, for editing this with me! I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 25**

Killian was the only one conscious for a few minutes, Emma and David groaning and coming to soon after him. Wherever they were was warm and dry, the few plants that were there gnarly and overgrown, and it was definitely not the oblivion Regina had said the portal would lead to.

"Where the hell are we?" Emma breathed, scrambling to her feet and glancing around with wide eyes and an open mouth. "This… well, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

"I think we're in the Enchanted Forest." David muttered, standing at his daughter's side and following her gaze. "Emma, this  _is_ the Enchanted Forest. This is your home."

It appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as Emma looked utterly horrified. "Home?" she repeated. "My home is where Henry is. How are we going to get back?"

"And my home is with Snow, but…" David shrugging, turning away from Emma as he bent to pick up his sword. "I never thought I'd get to see you here. I just need a moment."

Despite being dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans, David looked at ease in the new surroundings. His sword was strapped to his side, his hand on his hip and although there was worry clear in his expression, it was obvious that he felt some relief to be back in the realm he had once called home.

"We don't have time for you to have a moment." Emma snapped, her hands clenched into tight fists. "We need to get back to Storybrooke. To  _reality_. Hook, can you please  _stand up_?"

Emma snapped the order at him, and he awkwardly pushed himself upright, a pained groan escaping him when he accidentally put his weight on his injured arm. "Sorry, love. Like your father, I just needed a moment."

Emma mouthed the word 'father' and then shook her head in disbelief. "And I thought things couldn't get any crazier." She muttered. "Right. So the curse is broken and we've already sent a dementor through a magic portal hat thing, so I'm really hoping one of you two is going to tell me that in this place, it's easy to get back to Storybrooke."

"I didn't even know that travel between realms was possible until your mother and I needed to send you to safety." David muttered, and that realisation seemed to have dampened the enthusiasm that the Enchanted Forest had brought him. "I don't know how to get back. I know we will, though."

"I wish I could be that optimistic, but life doesn't work like that." Emma said angrily, kicking furiously at some stray debris on the tiled ground. "For god's sake, whatever just happened shouldn't even be  _possible_."

Killian watched her as she walked away, appearing to busy herself by wandering round the empty courtyard they had arrived in and unloading and reloading the gun she had tucked into the back of her trousers earlier.

"It would probably be more helpful for you to think of a way back instead of basking in this unexpected return to your kingdom." Killian hissed at David, raising an eyebrow tauntingly when the prince spun around to glare at him. "Do you have any clue where we are?"

David glanced around, his stare lingering on Emma as well, and then he frowned and shook his head. "It's nowhere I recognise."

"Well then, I suggest we walk until we find something that allows us to orientate ourselves and then we head back to what would have been your kingdom." Killian offered. "With Regina's curse ripping everyone to Storybrooke, it seems unlikely that we'll find anyone who can provide us with directions."

"Regina said this land didn't even exist anymore." David pointed out. "Who's to say she didn't lie about cursing everyone as well?"

There wasn't anything Killian could say to that, because it was a valid point, so he remained silent. David didn't seem eager to change that, looking around as though he might see something new. Despite the circumstances, Killian had to wonder if David would be more talkative if he was still just Killian Jones and not Captain Hook.

When Emma finally rejoined them, she looked tired and overwhelmed. She walked straight past him towards David, and Killian figured that with everything that had happened, she probably wasn't ready to deal with him as well.

"So have you thought of anything that might help us get back?" she asked. "The only thing I've managed to figure out is that this palace has probably been abandoned for a long time."

"Perhaps the wardrobe?" David suggested uncertainly. "It transported you to the other realm before although it only had the power to transport one."

"Two." Emma corrected, not bothering to explain when David looked at her inquisitively. "It's two. It's worth checking out, I guess. Perhaps it will work again and a couple of us can head back and try and figure out how to fetch the other one? Jefferson might know what to do."

"After what Jefferson did to you and Mary-Margaret, I don't really want to involve him in this." David grumbled.

"But it's the only plan we have, so do you know how to get there?"

"Not from here." David admitted.

"If the wardrobe doesn't work, there are other ways to open a portal." Killian told them, grinning at them when they both spun around to face him. "I've traversed realms before and I've never used a wardrobe."

"You've traversed-" Emma trailed off and sighed angrily. "See, this is the sort of thing that shouldn't just make sense to me. Do you have another idea or are you just interrupting so you get to hear your own voice?"

Her sharp words might have hurt if Killian wasn't able to read her so well. She was still angry about everything, even though the events of the day had managed to distract her, and the curse breaking followed by a trip to the Enchanted Forest was hardly something Emma knew how to deal with. By being distant with him, he became something she didn't have to deal with.

"Magic beans." he suggested. "I used one before and the portals take you where you want to go. However, I have heard rumours that in the past few centuries, they've become harder to get hold of than they were when Mr Smee managed to procure one."

"Mr Smee?" Emma repeated faintly, exchanging a wide-eyed, incredulous look with her father. " _Centuries_? God, I did not want to have deal with all of this today. Just... tell me if you think you can get one or not?"

Killian shrugged, wincing again at the grinding sensation he felt at the slight movement of his shoulder.

"Great. Well, that was helpful." She snapped. "We'll stick with the first plan. The only plan."

"I'll get you home, Swan." He promised, but his vow seemed to just make Emma uncomfortable. She sent him a tight smile and then turned her back to him, conversing with her father once again, this time in low voices that he couldn't understand.

He hadn't expected the Enchanted Forest to still exist. Regina had maintained for decades that it didn't, but it seemed that aside from the removal of all its human inhabitants, the realm had continued to survive. The palace they had arrived in was falling apart, plants growing up the walls and between the bricks and a coating of dust covering everything except a raised dais in the centre of the courtyard.

There wasn't a chance for him to contemplate further, because there were figures on the horizon, clearly on horseback, and they were steadily drawing closer to the palace and the three of them. Killian didn't think there was anyone left in the land, and he wished he could draw his sword and protect Emma from whoever was arriving, but he hadn't had a weapon equipped since thirty years earlier and his hook was useless with the way his arm was up in a sling.

David had noticed them as well, his sword held ready, and Emma followed her father's example by steadying her gun and aiming it towards the people in the distance.

As the figures drew closer, they were able to see that the two horses were carrying a total of three people, two of them better armed than David, Killian or Emma. The man and woman sharing a horse spent a few moments just looking at them, but the warrior riding solo leapt off the minute they were near and drew their weapon, the edge of their sword glinting in the sun.

"Who are you?" They asked immediately. "How did you get here?"

"Now, now, Mulan." said the man, and Killian noticed Emma shake her head once again. "Give them time to introduce themselves before you treat them like criminals."

"The monster they released could cause untold amounts of damage." Mulan snapped. "They  _are_ criminals."

"We're not." David said reassuringly, sheathing his sword and then holding his hands up placatingly. "I'm Prince James and I-"

"Of Misthaven?" The man interrupted and then he gently released the woman's arms from their position around his waist and dismounted his steed. "Surely not. Everyone knows that all the inhabitants of that kingdom were taken by the Queen's curse."

"We were." David explained. "We've been cursed for the past few decades but it's now broken and the three of us happened to find a portal to bring us back."

The man smiled and then offered David his hand in greeting. "I'm Prince Phillip and the woman I rode with is my love, Aurora. Mulan here fought by my side for many months until the curse struck. Who might your companions be?"

Emma looked disbelieving, shaking her head as Mulan removed her helmet and nodded at the three of them, taking Killian aback when he realised the warrior was a woman.

"This is my daughter, Emma." David said with a gesture towards her, and Killian noticed that although she had lowered her gun, it was still ready to fire. "And this is..."

The man trailed off, clearly unsure what to call Killian now that they all remembered.

"Hook." He told them, a slight smirk curving his lips when he saw Phillip and Aurora both glance nervously at the attachment. "Captain Hook."

"Your daughter?" Aurora asked, sliding from her seat on the horse to take a place beside Phillip, the prince's arm instinctively wrapping around her and holding her close as he angled them so he was between the woman and Killian. "How can she be your daughter? She looks no younger than you."

David sighed. "That's another way the Queen cursed us. Time didn't pass for us in the other land, but Snow and I sent Emma away so that she could one day break the curse. That meant that she aged when we didn't and it's only now that we've reunited."

Killian couldn't see the royals, not with how Mulan had unsubtly stepped between him and them as though she needed to guard them from him, but it didn't matter. He was only watching Emma. David's explanation to Phillip having made her expression tense and her entire posture stiff.

"I didn't think there was anyone left here." David continued. "We were told there wasn't  _anything_ here."

"I don't think there should be." Phillip admitted. "Somehow, a small area of land remained. The curse didn't take anyone there, but we were still trapped in time the way you seemed to be. We only woke a day or so ago. Everywhere else though, time has passed the way it should and the ogres have taken full advantage of that."

"The ogres are back?"

"The land is more dangerous than it's been for decades." Mulan answered before Phillip got the chance to. "Not only are there ogres, but we saw a Qui Shen this morning. That's why we're here. We wanted to make sure that we didn't accidentally release the creature when we visited these ruins earlier."

"The Qui Shen?" Emma asked, looking at Killian and then at Mulan. "You mean, the wraith? It's here?"

" _You_ brought that monster here?" Mulan asked, turning her sword away from Killian and towards Emma. "Do you understand what danger you've put everyone in?"

David was quick to point out that they believed the land to be deserted. Emma didn't appear to hear Mulan's words, pushing past the armoured woman to hurry over to Killian, reaching out and roughly taking hold of his hand. She turned it over, running her fingers gently over the blisters, and then bit her lip, raising her eyes to meet his.

"It's still after you." She breathed, her anxious expression quickly being hidden by an angry glare. "That was why we opened the portal and then you jumped through it  _too_? What were you  _thinking_?"

He pulled his hand back, curling his fingers towards his palm to hide the mark. "I was thinking,  _darling_ , that you had gone through into… well, none of us knew where this portal went and I wasn't going to let you face whatever it was alone."

Emma blinked furiously and looked down, shaking her head as she clenched and unclenched her fist. "The wraith is after  _you_  and whatever stupid reason you had for jumping through the hat is  _not_ worth your life."

"I'm not going to die." He promised, although his words didn't seem to comfort her at all. "I'm a survivor. Besides, isn't it up to me to decide what my life is worth? Making sure you weren't alone seemed worthy to me."

"That can't be why you came." She insisted with another shake of her head, and Killian sighed, wishing it didn't seem impossible to her that he was willing to do anything for her. "Why did you do this? Why did you come here?"

"I told you." He murmured sincerely. Emma took in a shaky breath, her eyelashes fluttering and in that moment, for just a brief second, her gaze softened to something soft and loving and it made his breath catch. "I wasn't going to let you come to wherever this portal led alone."

"I wouldn't be alone." She stammered in one last protest. "David would be here."

"Aye, that he would. Before we arrived though, how could I have known that?" He pointed out, the affection in her stare persuading him to bring his hand up to gently cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly along her skin. "I certainly wasn't going to wait for the portal to close and simply hope that another would be at your side. I wasn't going to leave you."

She swallowed, the familiar tenderness that showed in her eyes whenever he said something that knocked down her walls making an appearance as she gently turned her head into his palm. The openness didn't last long and Emma took a step away from him, leaving his hand hovering in the air.

"You shouldn't have come." she hissed, forced anger in her voice. "You made a mistake."

It was only when Emma walked away that Killian paid attention to the still-ongoing conversation between David and the others, and it seemed that David was still arguing with Mulan that the wraith hadn't been sent intentionally.

"If you  _had_ sent it here to save the one it marked, then why did you bring him with you?" Mulan asked, gesturing towards Killian. "You sent it here and you sent  _him_ here and now you've endangered everyone who's left in this land."

"Everyone?" David questioned, looking past Phillip and Aurora as though there were going to be dozens of other standing behind them. "How many  _did_ avoid the curse?"

"Enough to set up a Safe Haven." Mulan told them stiffly. "Although, with the Qui Shen, it might not be that safe anymore."

David asked if they could travel to the Safe Haven and stay there as they prepared for their journey back towards Snow's old kingdom. Phillip and Aurora agreed quickly, but Mulan seemed uncertain.

"If we take them back there, we're leading the Qui Shen there too." Mulan pointed out. "If they come to Safe Haven, then we put the pirate in the pit so we always know where he is, and we make sure the guards keep the wraith away. That is, if we can even make it back there without the wraith taking his soul."

"We'll make it." Emma snapped. "And by the time we reach this so-called Safe Haven, we'll have made you reconsider putting Hook in jail. He doesn't deserve that and if the wraith does make it to him there, we're not leaving him no way to escape."

Mulan raised an eyebrow then finally sheathed her sword. "We'll see."

~~~*~~~

Phillip and Aurora walked ahead with the horses, Mulan remaining beside Killian as the three of them were led towards what Phillip and Mulan called the Safe Haven. Emma hadn't spoken since they'd begun the journey, although David had walked alongside her and talked the entire time.

"If you're a Captain, then where is your ship?" Mulan asked after too long in an awkward silence. "A Captain should have a ship, shouldn't he?"

"I have a ship." Killian told her, not looking away from Emma and her father. "The Jolly Roger travelled with me when the curse hit. Perhaps that will reassure you that our arrival here was unintentional, because if I were planning on returning to this land, I would not have come back without her."

"The Jolly Roger?" Mulan repeated. "So not only do you have a hook for a hand, but you're a pirate. No matter what Emma thinks, it seems like I'm just getting more and more reasons to keep you away from the survivors."

Killian rolled his eyes and fell silent. Mulan seemed happier with the silence, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Mulan's pace was slow and steady, each step putting distance between them and the rest of the group, and he wondered if Mulan was purposefully keeping him away from the others in an attempt to protect them from him.

"Are you hoping that if you separate me enough from the group, you'll be able to leave me for the wraith without them noticing?" he questioned. "Because, unfortunately for you, David and Emma can count higher than five and may notice when our numbers decrease."

Mulan scoffed and strode ahead, leaving Killian trailing behind the other five. He may have suggested being left behind as a joke, but if the wraith was truly as dangerous as Mulan was saying, maybe it was a better idea than he had originally believed.

He'd rather lose his own life than have Emma and the others lose theirs. However, he'd promised Emma he'd survive and he refused to be yet another person in her life to break their promise.

"She's never ridden a horse."

Killian glanced up in surprise when he heard David's voice, his eyebrows creasing together when he saw that the prince had abandoned his daughter and retreated back to talk to him.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, peering over David's shoulder to see that Emma was walking alone, her gaze fixed on her feet instead of taking in the new and unfamiliar surroundings. "You're talking to me?"

"She's my daughter and she's never ridden a horse." David said instead of answering, a melancholy expression on his face. "She says she doesn't want to learn, because apparently they're too big and it doesn't matter if she can't ride when she can drive a car."

"I suppose that's a valid point." Killian muttered.

"This place isn't her home." David said quietly, the despair audible in his voice something that Killian wasn't sure how to deal with. "It may  _never_ be her home. She grew up back there, in a world with electricity and plumbing and cars, and this place… it's not for her. Getting back to Storybrooke is all she's thinking of right now and I can't see her returning to this place unless she has no choice."

"I hadn't considered that we  _would_ be attempting to return to this place." Killian admitted. "And right now, surely Emma has enough to adjust to without moving to a new realm as well."

"Of course we'll be trying to come back." David said, trailing off uncertainly. "Why wouldn't we? Emma told me you always remember, but for everyone else, we have two sets of memories, of  _lives_ , and the curse hitting, it feels like it only happened yesterday. I feel like I lost her yesterday. This is our home. I mean, it would have been if Regina hadn't interfered. Is it so wrong to think that it still could be?"

Killian shrugged. "Not wrong, but premature, maybe? I think it would be wise to see if your home could be in Storybrooke before you insist on returning the entire kingdom back to this land. You already live together. Now you just need the time to see what it's like when you're all aware that you're a family."

"You know, Hook," David muttered, more hesitantly than before. "Snow and I would do anything for Emma. We wanted her to have a good life and we risked a lot to ensure that, but now I have to wonder if, when it came to do it, with the curse coming, perhaps Snow and I were selfish. We wanted her to be a hero instead of just our daughter, and maybe now we're paying for that."

"Didn't you want her safe?" Killian pointed out. "That's not selfish."

The other man didn't respond for a few minutes, but when he did speak again, he clearly wanted to change the subject. "So how long were  _you_ aware that we were a family? I'm sure a pirate like you enjoyed all of the… intimate time you spent with my daughter. Did you enjoy our ignorance?"

"Intimate?" Killian repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "Trust me, Dave, you don't want to have this conversation."

"Snow and I were friends with Emma before the curse broke. I already know far too many things that I wish I didn't, and yes, that does include you and her." David grumbled. "It doesn't help that you're Captain Hook."

"Our relationship was as much up to her as it was me." Killian reminded him. "And is now really the time to discuss this? You don't have to worry anyway. Emma seems as dismayed about who I really am as you are."

David shook his head. "Well, you did lie to her. And are you going to answer my question or are you just going to keep dodging questions even now the curse has broken?"

"I knew." He answered, fidgeting with his hook and refusing to meet David's gaze. "Not the whole time though. I didn't always know she was the saviour, but when things started to change and Regina grew suspicious, it became clear what Emma was destined to do. Talking with Emma and with Henry made it clear who she really was, and how she was related to you."

"Didn't put you off, though, did it?" David mumbled. "You must have realised that  _before_ you and Emma started doing… whatever it was that made Mary-Margaret so excited."

"Are you warning me away from her?" Killian prompted. "Is that why you've really joined me back here instead of talking with Emma?"

David blinked at him, suddenly looking even more dismayed than he had when he joined Killian. "She's a grown woman." David stated. "I can't do that. We're not close enough for me to even pretend I have an opinion on her choices. I think that if Emma wants something, she's hardly going to take my fatherly concerns into account."

"She might like to know you have such concerns." He told David quietly. "I doubt she's experienced 'fatherly concern' before. They'll irritate her, certainly, but I think she'll listen. She's missed out on having a father the same way you missed out on having a daughter. It may be too soon to talk her about them now, but some day, she'll appreciate it. Besides, I'm sure she appreciates that you refused to let her travel here alone. That will mean something to her"

"The same could be said for you." David grumbled and then he patted Killian on the shoulder before returning to Emma. "I suppose you're not all bad."

Killian chuckled slightly at the parting words, still surprised that David had even had a conversation with him after the breaking of the curse. He sped up then and closed the distance between him and the rest of the group.

He was going to get Emma home.

~~~*~~~

The group had stopped as soon as night fell, Mulan insisting that it was safer for them to stop travelling through the night. With the blindness of ogres, darkness gave them too much of an advantage, and that was reason enough for them to light a fire and settle in a clearing.

Mulan tended the fire as Phillip and Aurora cuddled up together near a tree and talked. Thetravellers from Storybrooke had discovered during their journey that the two of them had been separated since before the curse, and it was only the True Love's Kiss they had shared that morning that had woken Aurora from the sleeping curse that had kept them apart. Killian couldn't begrudge them the time together.

However, he didn't feel like sitting and watching the happy couple or dodging Mulan's suspicious glares, so Killian sat in the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

David seemed to be showing Emma how to sharpen a sword, but Killian was just a bit too far away to hear what they were talking about. Emma seemed disinterested, tracing patterns into the dirt with her finger and Killian wished he could go over and talk to her and make her smile the way she had just days before.

Instead, he distracted himself by attempting to tighten the knot holding his sling in place, although without a mirror, it was hard to fix it with only one hand.

"Let me." His jaw dropped when he heard Emma's voice and he couldn't take his eyes off her as she crouched next to him, her fingers brushing against his shoulder as she reached for the knot. "It's probably easier with two hands, right?"

She was so close, her hair falling like a curtain between the two of them and the others, and he gazed at her as she focused on tying the knot. "Thank you." he breathed, a smile curving his lips when she looked at him, glancing briefly at his lips. "Unfortunately, breaking my collarbone made using my left hand a bit troublesome."

Emma rolled her eyes and laughed, her hand brushing against the leather of his brace once she had fixed the sling. "Of course. What  _happened_ to you, by the way? You look… well, you've looked better."

"Rumplestiltskin was hardly going to let me get away with imprisoning him for decades, was he?" Killian muttered, keeping his voice quiet and their conversation private. "I followed him to try and get back what he took from you, but I was met with his cane and his fury."

"The wraith wasn't enough?" she questioned, her fingers tracing the thin cuts on his face left by the shattered glass and then brushing carefully against the yellowing bruises under his eyes. "He had to hurt you as well as sentence you to whatever the wraith does?"

"He's done worse to me." Killian told her, glancing down at his hook. "Far worse. I'm just thankful that he went after me instead of hurting you."

Emma swallowed and bit her lip. "What you told me, ages ago, about Milah. It was true, wasn't it? It was him who killed her."

Killian couldn't think how to word an answer so he just nodded. The conversation had been so long ago, weeks ago, but Emma remembered it. She was crouched beside him, her touch gentle as she examined his injuries and her gaze warm, and his heart was racing.

"I'll be fine, Emma." He whispered. "I've lived a long time and I've been through more pain than this."

"That doesn't stop me from wishing you  _weren't_ in pain." She murmured. "Besides, I'm sure having two working arms would help with the ogres."

"I'm not thinking about that. I haven't been thinking about that." He said gently, watching as Emma pulled her hands back and moved so she was sat next to him instead of crouched before him. "I just want to know how  _you_ are."

"You want to know…" Emma blinked at him, looking confusingly taken-aback. "No one's asked me that since the curse broke. I, well, I wasn't exactly prepared for any of this. Especially not this. I don't…"

"You don't?"

"Hook, I don't want to be here." She mumbled. "And I can't tell David because as much as he misses Mary-Margaret and his home in Storybrooke, there's part of him that's  _glad_ he's here. He's missed this place but, god, I just hate it here."

"So you're not alright?" he stated, frowning when she shook her head and buried her head in her hands. "Is there anything I can do?"

"It's kind of been a big day." she said through a forced laugh. "There's a lot of things to deal with and it was bad enough without this trip. I mean, I told Mary-Margaret, my  _mom_ , about us. I mean, she was there when I got back after spending the night with  _you_ and now I have to deal with the fact that the woman I thought was my friend is actually my parent. My friend understood me but this new mix of Mary-Margaret and Snow White doesn't seem to. I don't know how to have parents and the friends that I had finally managed to let in I've lost. Henry's back in the other world, where I should  _also_ be, and just don't even get me started on you and your hook."

"I could detach it, if that would help." He suggested, and Emma laughed again, this time through a broken, quiet sob. "As for the rest, I wish I could say I  _could_ do something but it may be something that will only be fixed in time."

Emma grumbled something incoherent and then fell silent. For a while, they just sat beside one another and Killian took comfort in the fact that she seemed to be at her most relaxed when she was beside him.

"You know, I'm still angry at you." She muttered bitterly. "But you don't seem too different and right now, I need that more than anything. And I guess I  _am_ thankful you followed me through here, although I still think it was stupid of you."

"Anything for you, Emma." He promised, and although she didn't look at him, her breath hitched.

They didn't say anything more for a very long time. Instead Killian watched the reflection of the flames in the metal of David's sword as the prince sharpened it, the orange flickers almost hypnotising. He was drifting into slumber when he felt the weight of Emma's head on his shoulder, her soft snores warm against his neck.

It had only been two nights ago, before the chaos of the curse breaking, that they'd slept pressed against one another and he'd woken to her beautiful smile and her kiss.

He let his head rest against hers, catching sight of her father's resigned stare through his half-closed gaze, and then, with the smell of Emma surrounding him and her warmth pressed against his side, he slept.

It was only felt like minutes later that he awoke, cold sweeping over him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw David standing, sword ready, the other three at his side. Phillip had his arm thrown protectively in front of Aurora, his stare on the skies, and Killian knew that whatever had doused the fire was something dangerous.

"Ogres?" he asked, easing Emma gently away from his side. "Have they found us?"

"It's not the ogres." Mulan snapped. Emma stirred at the sound, blinking sleepily and then stumbling to her feet and standing beside Killian. "It's the wraith. It's found  _you_."

Killian didn't have a weapon, or anything to ward away the creature, but Mulan's words had startled Emma into action, her gun held steady in her hand and aimed towards the sky.

The atmosphere grew cold, wind sweeping through the clearing and making the trees creak and sway. Killian's hand burnt, as though warning him that the wraith was coming, and he clenched his fist, the pain keeping him awake despite how tired he still felt.

He spotted David waving at him, and once he met the other man's gaze, David threw a small, metal lighter towards him, the same one he had used in their second fight against the wraith. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, and Killian flicked it on and off a few times as they waited for the creature to arrive.

There were no further signs of the wraiths approach before it swept down on them with a loud shriek, tossing Aurora aside as it bore down on Killian, it's bony hand outstretched towards him. He felt the same unpleasant, dizzying awareness that his soul was being summoned out of him that he'd felt in his cabin back in Storybrooke, but he had enough presence of mind to hold the burning lighter shakily in front of him, one last defense before it took him.

There was a loud crack, a gunshot, and the wraith faltered, floating away from him for a brief moment. Killian turned to see Emma, her gun smoking and a wide-eyed, terrified look on her face.

"Don't shoot again!" David yelled, arcing his blade towards the wraith. "We don't want ogres here too!"

"Well, they've probably already heard us." Emma snapped back, keeping the gun aimed at the wraith as it approached once again. "This thing isn't exactly quiet."

Phillip darted forward, ducking under the wraith and snatching a burning log from the destroyed fireplace, the wood still smoldering, and threw it towards the creature. It screeched and dodged it, moving closer to Killian once more.

Then Mulan sliced across it, her blade cutting easily through it's form. It wailed and shook in place, before speeding away, its cries echoing through the clearing long after it had left.

"How did you do that?" Emma asked, hurrying back towards Killian and looking over him in case the wraith's attempt to rip his soul away had left a mark. "Did you kill it?"

"I doubt it." Mulan muttered, sheathing her sword. "But my weapon repels magic, and that's all that monster is. I suppose you see now why it's safer for everyone, including the pirate, for him to be locked away?"

Emma clenched her jaw and said nothing.

"With that thing after us, it might be better to move through the night." Phillip suggested, already packing away the few things they had travelled with. "Ogres are big enough to avoid, if we're quiet, and we can sleep in the day, when the wraith isn't around."

The entire group agreed, but Killian noticed a drag to Emma's steps as they kept going. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't certain if she'd slept since the night they'd shared, and even then they hadn't slept for too long. She'd been busy since then, with fighting dragons and wraiths and breaking curses, and he wished his own curse wasn't the thing keeping her from getting the rest she deserved.

"This wraith thing is going to be so annoying if it keeps showing up." she grumbled after a mile or two. "Is it too much to ask for just one night's sleep?"

Killian was walking beside her, the two of them having slowed down so they were both trailing behind the others. "You could leave me behind. As you said before, you have David here with you and I'm certain you'll return to Henry much faster if you don't have my safety to worry about as well."

"Not happening." She said firmly, Killian gazing at her in surprise when he felt her hand take his. "You came here with me. Or  _for_ me. So I'm not going back without you. We're  _all_ getting home."

She dropped his hand soon after that, but they stayed together as they continued through the unfamiliar, overgrown woods and Killian felt  _hope_.

~~~*~~~

The Safe Haven was smaller than Killian had hoped. It appeared only dozens of people had remained behind in the Enchanted Forest, and they'd only had a few days to organise shelter. There were a few shaky watchtowers, each manned by a warrior with bows and arrows, and several tents that appeared to be serving as makeshift butchers and blacksmiths.

There was also a pit, which seemed to be where Mulan was planning on putting him.

"That's where you're sticking Killian?" Emma asked once it was pointed out to them. "Yeah, that's not happening. If the wraith does somehow manage to get past your… amateur guards, he needs to be somewhere he can escape. I don't have much experience with rope-climbing, but I imagine it's pretty difficult with one hand."

"We'll find a ladder." Mulan snapped. "He goes in there, or you can all find your own safe place."

"It's fine, Swan." Killian promised, although he had to admit he had thought along the same lines as Emma, especially when he caught sight of the coiled rope beside the pit. "You and your father can rest here, and I've slept in worse places than down there. Then we'll be leaving to get to your kingdom. One night down there won't be an issue."

"You're sure?" Emma muttered quietly, exchanging a worried glance with David before nodding at Mulan. "Stay safe, okay?"

Emma and David walked away, and for a few seconds, Killian watched her go. Mulan nudged him, pushing him towards what was passing as a prison and she kept a close eye on him as he leapt down into the hole, stumbling slightly when he landed.

The sunlight was enough to illuminate most of the room, but the edges were shrouded in darkness. Killian wandered towards the wall, planning on resting against it and sleeping a few hours of his imprisonment away, but he only made it a few steps before he heard a familiar and unwelcome voice.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, Captain."

Killian tensed, twisting to look at the shadows where the voice had come from. "Cora?" He questioned warily, inhaling sharply when the woman stepped into the light. "I have to say I felt the same. I suppose your presence explains why there's already a prison in this place."

Cora laughed, a cruel glint in her eye as she looked over him. "You look terrible, Captain."

"As do you." He replied with a bitter smirk, carefully watching her as she circled him. "Although, considering the last time I saw you, you were in a coffin, so I have to say it's an improvement."

"Yes, back when I was waiting for you to come and get me. Luckily, I made sure my plans didn't hinge on your actions. After all, why would I ever trust a pirate?" She said softly, a vicious smirk curving her lips as she took step towards him. "However, Hook, you can trust me when I say I haven't forgotten. You better hope you know something that can help me, because otherwise, your injuries are going to be the least of your worries."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! I hope you enjoy it - there's going to be a couple of weeks before the next chapter as I'm away on holiday!

**Chapter 26**

Killian wasn't sure what to do. Dealing with Cora had been difficult even when they briefly wanted the same thing, and despite how poorly he knew her, he was familiar enough with Wonderland's Queen to know her words weren't idle threats.

"Ah, well," he began, running his tongue along his lips as he tried to think of anything to say. "What would be helpful to you? Last we met, you were keen to take vengeance on your daughter but we're both aware that things don't always go to plan."

Cora laughed, a calculating gleam appearing in her eye and then she took a step towards him. "I don't want my daughter dead, Captain. Not anymore. I want to be  _with_ her, and you may have betrayed me then, but I think now, you might have the knowledge I need."

"The knowledge?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes and peering at her as he tried to remember everything she had said to him almost thirty years before. "About the curse? What makes you think I'm the person to ask?"

"What made you think I was the right person to betray?" She answered, her smirk growing when she reached out to press her palm to his chest, her fingers flexing just over his beating heart. "Why did you make that choice?"

"Impatience." He said quickly, not wanting to take too long when he knew Cora was ready to rip his heart out. "I believed that I used the knowledge you had given me about Regina's curse, I could go with her and deal with the Dark One much quicker than I would have done with you."

"Is Rumplestiltskin dead?" Cora questioned, her expression knowing. "Or is he the one who ruined your pretty face?"

Killian swallowed, determined not to flinch away when her hand moved to trace his jaw. "He lives." he replied., his gaze darting briefly up to the opening of the pit as he tried to judge whether or not anyone would notice if Cora attacked. "My trust in your daughter was misplaced. She cursed me to forget like everyone else. When the curse broke, the Dark One and I remembered and I was unable to carry out my revenge."

He maintained eye contact with Cora, desperately wanting her to believe he had the same motivations as before. "But you're here now." She stated. "It seems that your betrayal was more trouble to you than it was to me. Perhaps working together again might advantageous to us both."

"Working together?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow and staring at the woman in disbelief. "And why would I agree to such a dangerous offer?"

"Do you need a reason other than self-preservation?" Cora laughed, her fingers finally leaving his face and returning back to his heart. "I want to get to my daughter and I believe I know how, but unfortunately, there are a few things I need before I go through any portal and it would be far easier if I had a strong man like you to get them for me. Besides, you have knowledge about this new realm that could be helpful."

Despite concentrating on not looking too surprised by her words, his mind was racing. Cora wanted to travel to Storybrooke, and although that was the last thing he wanted, she seemed to know a way there and  _that_ was something he did need. That was something Emma needed.

"Well, I do need to return to the other realm to try my hand at my vengeance once again." He said carefully. "I assume that my assistance would mean that you would let me accompany you back there."

"I haven't decided yet." Cora admitted, an amused quirk to her lips. "Perhaps once I'm certain you won't betray me again. It would be easier if I were. After all, we are both well-versed in portal travel and we both know you need to only think of where you want to go in order to get there.  _If_ I trusted you, things would go smoother. Unfortunately, I  _don't_ trust you and so I need a way for me to get there without reliance on another."

"And yet you want me to fetch whatever this is?"

"You need me to get home. I don't  _need_ you," She reminded him. "You fail to retrieve what I need, you don't get your revenge. You don't get home."

He bit his lip and then pushed her hand away from his chest. "I'll think about it."

"You'll  _think_ about it?" Cora said through a cruel laugh. "What? Are you hoping that the  _heroes_ will save you?"

"The heroes?"

"Oh, did you think I didn't know who else had arrived in this haven?" She questioned. "I might be trapped down here, but I'm not ignorant as to the goings-on in this realm."

He grimaced, refusing to let Cora know his feelings for Emma or his fondness for her father, so he shrugged. "Rumplestiltskin had many of his magical objects brought over with him and when he remembered, he made me a target of the Qui Shen." He explained, showing Cora the mark on his hand. "These so-called heroes, being who they are, tried to save me. It backfired rather spectacularly and what was meant to banish the wraith ended up sending us all here."

"You  _must_  be determined to leave this realm with the wraith after you." She muttered, a scheming look in her eyes as she glanced over him. "You really think they're your best option?"

"I'm not certain." He lied. "But I think it's worth dwelling on. I don't have much else to do while I'm trapped down here."

Cora scoffed. "I won't wait around for you to decide. You better hope you make your decision before it's too late… and that your heroes find a way to save you before the wraith gets you."

She walked back into the shadows, appearing to vanish totally in the darkness, although Killian could feel her eyes on him as he slumped down against the wall of the prison. Ideally, he would have slept but with Cora confined in the same place as him, he knew sleep would not come easy. If at all.

~~~*~~~

It was only a few hours later when Killian heard Mulan's voice yell something in warning, only giving him a few seconds to back away from underneath the opening of the pit. The instant he was out of the way, a heavy, crude rope ladder tumbled down from the entrance.

"You're needed." She called down, and Killian looked up to see that Mulan had her arms folded and her lips pursed impatiently. "I thought you would climb a ladder quicker than a rope and we really don't want to be waiting any longer than we have to."

Killian didn't say anything in reply. Instead, he just started to clamber out of the pit, relieved to be leaving the darkness and Cora behind and very grateful Mulan hadn't mentioned anything about Emma and David actually wanting his company, if they even did.

"What's happening?" He asked, once they'd taken a few steps away from the pit and towards the wooden table on the other side of camp. "Have you reconsidered your stance on my imprisonment?"

"Not at all." Mulan said with a roll of her eyes. "Despite what I thought was wise, Emma seems to want your input on how to get back home."

Even with Emma's previous insistence that they  _would_ be returning together, he had hardly expected her to actively want to work with him to get home. When he reached the large table, however, David and Emma were already deep in conversation with a man Killian didn't recognise. Instead of joining the discussion, Killian remained quiet and helped himself to what looked like chimera meat.

It was a weird texture, one he'd grown unaccustomed to during the curse, but he was so hungry after a day travelling that he wasn't going turn down any food. Emma was picking at the meat too, her father busy speaking, but she seemed much less eager to give the food a try.

At least, she seemed unwilling until she saw Killian eating it and then she attacked the chimera leg in her hand, tearing at the meat and only slowing when she saw David's surprised look her way.

"It tastes better than it looks." She stated. "By the way, Hook, this is Lancelot. He's in charge here apparently. And he knows David."

The last phrase was said with such clear disdainment that it was obvious to everyone that Emma was already getting tired of all the fairy tale things. Her tone caused David to look miserable, but Lancelot just looked between all of them in confusion and then took a handful of grapes from the middle of the table.

"As I was saying, leaving this haven is too dangerous for a plan that is based purely on a hunch." Lancelot stated. Killian surmised that David must have filled the knight in on the existence of the magical wardrobe back in his palace. "The ogres are too powerful and your kingdom is too far."

"You told me what region this is." David protested. "The journey to our palace should only be a day or so. Getting back home, to my wife and my grandchild, well… it's worth the risk."

Lancelot frowned and ate another handful of fruit. "If there are no words that will dissuade you, then there's nothing I can do other than insist that you allow Mulan and Phillip to defend you."

"We can defend ourselves." Emma protested. "David and I will go and then we will return with the wardrobe."

"Return?" Lancelot questioned, glancing between Emma and her father in confusion. "You told me you were searching for a wardrobe. How does it make sense for you to travel such a distance in order to bring it back with you?"

"Because… we can't go back without Hook." Emma stated, and Killian turned to look at her, unsure why he couldn't just accompany them to the palace. "And I think he'll be safer here. We don't know if the wardrobe works, and there's no point risking exposure to wraith for a plan that might not work."

Lancelot leaned back slightly in his chair, an unsettling gleam in his eyes as he glanced over Killian. "If it's that important that he follows you back to Storybrooke, then my insistence that you bring the others makes even more sense. The two of you can't carry a wardrobe all the way back here and expect to get back unharmed."

"Swan, I'm sure the three of us would be able to cope." Killian insisted, determined that all of them were going to get away from the haven and from Cora. "I'd much rather that than be left here."

"No." She said sharply. "We'll take Mulan and Phillip. And probably Aurora. We'll get the wardrobe, come back and then we'll let you out of the pit and we'll all go home."

"Out of the…" His voice faltered as he realised just what Emma had said. They weren't simply planning on leaving him behind, something he already hated the thought of, but they wanted him to remain in the pit, with Cora. "You honestly want to leave me behind?"

"We're not discussing this." She snapped, refusing to look at him.

Killian wondered if Emma truly intended on coming back for him at all. She had said otherwise, and he wanted to  _believe_ otherwise, but there was part of him that couldn't. Instead he swallowed, snatched another leg of meat from the table and then stormed away.

He loitered near the blacksmith, enjoying the sweltering heat as well as the decent view of the table. Emma kept glancing back at him and biting her lip, and he wondered if he'd misunderstood, despite the clarity of her words. After Lancelot said something, however, she turned away and took her gun out from her waistband, running her hands over it and clearly explaining how it worked to the interested knight.

At least she'd have something to defend herself with, if the presence of David and the others wasn't enough.

He wished he was going with her.

The meeting appeared to end soon after that, Emma leaving her father talking with Lancelot and then crossing the camp to join Killian at the blacksmith's. She stood beside him without speaking for a few minutes, looking around the haven, her gaze lingering on the others in the camp as they bustled around, building shelters and sorting food.

"It's not that I don't want you to come." Emma said suddenly. "That's not it. It's just… it's probably quicker. I mean, you only have one-"

"Hand?" He interrupted, ignoring how Emma exhaled loudly and shook her head. "Swan, you should know better than most how  _capable_ I am, even with only one hand."

"You have one arm up in a sling." She spat. "Nothing to do with the fact that you have a hook for a hand and more to do with the fact that your arm is currently useless. That and you're being hunted by a wraith."

Killian frowned apologetically, glancing around the camp to make sure no one was looking their way before reaching out to lay his hand gently on her arm. "Sorry."

"I want to do things quickly because of that. You get that, right?" She murmured, her anger clearly dampened by his words. "I want to get back to Henry, more than  _anything_ , but I want you safe too. And I think that's going to happen if we split up. Just for a bit."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"Well, if we don't really stop for a break, and if we leave soon, then we should be back late tomorrow evening." She told him. "I mean, that's only one night that you have to escape the wraith for."

He understood why she was leaving him behind, he truly did, but that didn't stop the nagging worry that things would be different if he was still just Killian instead of the liability he had become when the Dark One cursed him.

"Just be careful." He stated, and she blinked at him. "It's not safe anywhere. Not even here."

"Do you think that's going to change my mind?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "At least there are people here that have promised that they'll fight for you. It's not that simple back out there."

"I'm not in that pit alone." He hissed, keeping his voice as low as possible. Cora's words had rung true when she'd spoken of her knowledge of the camp, and he refused to let Cora know of his love for Emma, or of the fact that David and Emma truly were planning to help him. His apparent need for a way home was the only thing that meant Cora may tell him any plans she had. "Regina's mother is there too, and if you think  _Regina_ is bad, then there are no words for Cora."

"What?"

"Look, Cora and I were… allies, once, although I ended that partnership sooner than I should have." He whispered. "She believes that I'm still the same man I was back then, before you. She thinks I need vengeance on Rumplestiltskin and that I'm still willing to do whatever it takes to get it. Cora says she knows a way to open a portal and she'd rather have me do the dirty work. She's too powerful to outright reject, so I told her I'd think about it but if she finds out that you're truly willing to return with me at your side, all of us will be in danger."

Emma had looked uneasy when he begun his explanation, but as he spoke, her eyes widened and a determined glint appeared in them. "Play along." she told him. "Pretend you're on her side. At least while we're away. We don't know if this wardrobe is going to work and if it doesn't, then if this woman knows a way back, and might tell you, then we should do that. I mean, you're both trapped down there so it's not as if you can actually do any of her dirty work for her."

"Swan," He started, his words faltering as he tightened his hold on her arm and tugged her gently further into the blacksmith's tent so that no one could see them. "Do you understand what you're asking me?"

"I get that it's dangerous." she breathed, staring down at his hand. "Really. But… you already told her that you'd think about it, didn't you? How long do you have until she wants a decision?"

"Until it seems like you haven't returned for me."

"So just tonight and tomorrow?" She confirmed. "Look, at least if she thinks you might work for her, that's another person who'll protect you from the wraith while we're gone, even if it's just because she wants you for her own selfish reasons. Okay?"

"Alright." He agreed, dread stirring in him at the thought of actively deceiving Cora. "But be safe. Please."

"You too." She murmured. "You  _have_ to be safe too. I know this is a lot to ask, but can you at least promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to make sure that you're here when I get back?"

Killian nodded, his breath catching when she closed the small distance between them to press a gentle kiss just beside his lips and then lingered there even after the kiss ended. He watched her, her eyes closed and her breath warm and light against his skin.

"Swan..." He muttered brokenly, surprised and thrilled by the unexpected affection.

He wanted to turn his head slightly and kiss her properly, just in case this was their last goodbye, but she rocked back on her heels, away from him, before he could.

"Mulan wants you back in the pit." She said quietly, her voice breathless and her gaze locked on Killian's mouth. "I'm sorry. I guess I'll see you soon."

Then she walked away.

~~~*~~~

"Well, Captain?"

He had only been in the pit for seconds when he heard Cora's voice again, the sound piercing through him. He tensed, and then allowed an easy, dangerous smirk to spread across his face. "Yes, my dear Cora?"

"It appears that your so-called heroes are leaving without you." She said with a quiet laugh. "Are you reconsidering my offer yet?"

He shook his head and then sat down, trying to look relaxed in the woman's presence. "No. They may be leaving me here, but they bothered to pretend I was part of their team as they were planning, so there's still hope they'll help."

"Think about it, Hook." Cora murmured, walking over to him and then gesturing for him to stand again, clearly unwilling to sit beside him. "They may be heroes, but  _why_ would they help you? They know who you are and  _what_ you are, so what reason would they have to save you?"

"You're forgetting, Cora, that I know them." He explained. "We were cursed together. Perhaps I don't know the true personality of the prince, but I knew the saviour. The curse was only broken a couple of days ago, my queen, and the saviour knows me far better as the man I was when I was cursed, and I think she'll want to help  _him_. If only because she feels guilty that I've been pulled back to this land."

"Really?" Cora asked, her eyebrows raised. "How close were you?"

It had been a while but Killian was a practiced liar. "Not close. We knew each other, certainly, but in the small town of Storybrooke, it's impossible  _not_ to know everyone."

"Storybrooke?" Cora appeared intrigued by the word and Killian grimaced. He hadn't intended to let her know anything new, and the wide, pleased smirk on her face meant that he'd failed. "Is that where my daughter is? It sounds like a curious place."

"I suppose, for you, it will be." He admitted. "But that's beside the point. The point, Cora, is that I know the saviour enough to know that guilt will be enough of a motivator for her. If I'm proven wrong, however, you can be sure that I'll place myself at your side until we reach the Crocodile."

That seemed to be enough for Cora and she slunk into the shadows once again. Killian waited a few minutes before he exhaled in relief, glad the encounter was over

For a while, all he could hear was the noisy sounds of preparation in the camp above but then it all fell quiet. Emma and the others must have left. He hoped everything would go smoothly, but Killian had been alive during the first ogres war and he couldn't ignore the nagging worry that if they encountered one, things wouldn't work out as well as Emma hoped.

Killian managed to sleep for what he thought was a few hours, although being unable to see the sun hindered his ability to judge just how long he'd napped for. No matter how long it had been, his sleep had been restless.

He'd dreamt of Emma being roared at by ogres, the huge creatures bearing down on her as she pulled the trigger of her gun uselessly, the ammo all gone. He felt the wraith ripping his soul away and leaving him cold and empty, just like he'd been for so many years, until he jolted awake and realised he was still trapped in the dark pit.

The worst nightmare that night, and Killian was used to nightmares, was of waiting. Of days spent in the pit, not knowing what had happened to Emma and David until he had spent so long imprisoned below the camp that the only explanation was that either they'd died or they'd left him behind to do just that.

Killian didn't sleep after that. Instead, he watched the moonlight reflecting off his hook as he twisted it back and forth in its brace.

He decided to remain hopeful. He fully believed that Emma could succeed at anything she chose to attempt, and after the gentle kiss she'd bestowed upon his cheek in goodbye, he also had very little doubt she'd choose to leave him behind.

Emma was still angry with him, he knew that much, but with everything else that had happened, he had to wonder if maybe she was thankful that he, at least had remained the same person as before. Or perhaps, she'd decided that his transgressions were the things she cared least about given the sudden changes she had to deal with.

Either way, since they travelled to the Enchanted Forest, she'd oscillated between anger and affection and that was enough to keep him hoping that one day, she could at least trust him again.

Killian needed her to trust him again. He had felt so empty until he met her so many years earlier, but the hope she had ignited in him back in the tavern had faded along with his memory of her, a hazy recollection that had spurred back into being when he saw her again. The memory had struck him, like lightning, and after decades of existence, he had suddenly felt like he had finally stopped drowning when he saw her in the sheriff's station. One look, and he'd been hers.

His relationship with her had been more than he could ever have expected, and although it had been difficult to want more when she so clearly wished it meant  _less_ , they'd manage to craft out a relationship that was worth fighting for, even if it had only lasted mere hours.

He'd fight for that relationship until Emma made clear what she wanted, but no matter what happened, he was going to do whatever he could to get her home to her son.

Even if that meant working with Cora.

"Cora?" he called out, wondering briefly he could get some more information from her if he pretended to be more welcome to working with her. "Cora?"

There was no response. He slowly got to his feet and wandered over towards the shadows that Cora had hidden in, but he soon grew aware that he was alone. He didn't know how long she'd been gone, although he would bet that she left soon after their conversation finished, but he was more concerned with where she'd gone.

"Excuse me?" he yelled up, wondering if any of the inhabitants of the Haven were aware that, despite how effective the pit was at holding him, Cora had been roaming free.

Whatever she was up to, Killian had a feeling that it was Emma and the others that Cora would be interested in, and suddenly the insistences that he remain behind weighed on him even more than before. He may be safe in the pit, but Emma and David were in more danger than anyone had expected.

~~~*~~~

After the realisation that Cora was not as shackled as she appeared to be, Killian hadn't managed to get any further sleep. He highly doubted he'd have gotten rest even without the disturbing news of Cora's escape, as once the sun had gone down, he'd been haunted by the screeching and wailing of the stolen souls that warned of the wraith's arrival.

Killian had toyed with David's lighter, one he still had in his possession after the fight the day before, but Mulan's claims that the haven's guards would fight off the wraith had been true. When the thin beam of sunlight illuminated the pit at dawn, he knew he'd survived yet another night.

If things went according to plan, and with Cora free, Killian was beginning to feel less confident that things would, Emma and David would be back at the haven that day. The only thing he had to do until he saw her again was wait.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, although the worry that perhaps Emma wouldn't be returning was unrelenting, only growing worse with each passing moment.

Then he heard something. It was distant, clearly coming from the camp above him, the sounds of people stirring into action. He sprung to his feet, hopeful that it was Emma's return that had stirred such a response, but soon loud screams and pained yells broke through the other noises.

Whatever was happening, Killian was certain it wasn't Emma's return that was causing such chaos above.

He couldn't get out of the pit, not with the rope ladder still curled up on the ground above, but with what he could hear, he wasn't sure if he wanted to escape or if he was safer remaining sequestered in the dark hole.

After what he'd promised Emma, he needed to remain safe. However, if whatever monster was attacking the people above found  _him_ , there wasn't anywhere he could run to. He wasn't prepared for fighting either, with his arm in a slinging and his collar bone grinding with each movement.

An eerie silence fell soon after the commotion had started and then rope ladder clattered down, a path to freedom that Killian wasn't entirely sure he wanted to take.

"Are you going to join me, Hook?"

Once again , it was Cora's voice that had surprised him. He hesitated, approaching the ladder but merely glancing up through the exit instead of climbing it.

"I have to say that I was wondering where you'd gone." He said, forcing a bored smirk onto his face. "From the sounds of it, your travels were probably more pleasant for you than everyone else."

"You don't want to see what I've done?" she questioned, a smug grin decorating her expression as she peered down at him. "Or hear about what I've done? After all, with the delay I've put in your hero's plans, you really should be thinking more sincerely about my offer. It's not going to be available for much longer."

What she'd done? His jaw tensed at her words as all the possibilities of what she  _could_ have done flashed through his mind. If Cora had hurt Emma, or worse,  _killed_ her, he'd turn on her with the wrath he had once saved for Rumplestiltskin.

But first, he would need to get back to Storybrooke, or at least find out how to, because Mary-Margaret and Henry would need to know too.

He didn't let himself get carried away with the dark possibilities. Instead, he concentrated on what Emma had asked him to do, to find a way home, and clambered up the ladder towards the Queen.

She smiled wickedly at him once he was finally standing on solid ground, but Killian wasn't looking at her. His gaze was locked on the devastation surrounding them, the bodies of all the people who had, only the day before, been bustling around in what they thought was a safe haven.

They had only thought that way because Cora had kept her power hidden, and Killian felt a twinge of guilt when he wondered if any warnings would have saved them, warnings he hadn't even thought to give anyone buy Emma.

Instead, they'd been caught unaware as she destroyed them, their hearts ripped out viciously. Cora hadn't bothered to use her magic to plunge her hands into their bodies, bloody wounds over the hearts of every single person.

"Why did you do  _this_?" He questioned, trying to hide his disgust from her. Despite his determination, he was unable to mask the way his face paled but his distaste seemed to just amuse Cora. "Why was this necessary?"

"When is an army  _not_ necessary?" Cora replied, raising her hand to show that she was still holding a beating heart in her crimson-stained hand and then squeezing it. "Hook, haven't you learnt that it's always better to have  _more_ power?"

"You said you had done something? You implied that it involved the saviour?" he prompted. "I'm assuming that you weren't referring to this desolation."

Cora shook her head, a cruel laugh falling from her lips. "Honestly, I was  _kind_ to that group." she stated. "I may have ripped their hope away, but they've kept their lives."

"Their hope?"

"I'm closer to reuniting with my daughter." She explained, dropping the heart to the ground and drawing a small, glowing vial out from her sleeve. "The saviour and her father, well, they won't be returning home any time soon."

"Sparkly dirt?" He queried, raising a dubious eyebrow. "Is that supposed to inspire something in me?"

"It's not sparkly dirt." Cora snapped. "It's the remains of a magical wardrobe. I'm sure you know  _which_ wardrobe."

"Is it enough to get us to where we need to go?"

"Not quite. But it's a start." She stated. "Now, do you have more faith in my plan, Captain? Are you willing to help?"

He swallowed, staring from Cora to the corpses behind her. She'd taken the way home from Emma and David, and he was primed to take it back. "I'll help." He agreed. "I'll help with whatever you need."


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this for me! I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 27**

"Whatever I need?" Cora repeated, a malicious smirk distorting her face. "Why, Captain, that really does sound tempting."

"Within reason." He joked, forcing another light smile across his face despite the death surrounding them. "Self-preservation and all that. You understand, surely?"

Cora shook her head, amused for only a brief moment before her expression hardened. "You were so fond of the idea of waiting on your so-called heroes. Is my power that convincing?"

Killian swallowed, needing no reminder of what the woman standing before him was capable of, not with the evidence strewn around him. However, he didn't want Cora to think he was on her side solely because of that, not when he needed her to believe he was choosing her and wasn't going to betray her for a second time.

"Nothing to do with your power, my dear." He told her, smirking at the slight surprise she displayed. "More like that damned impatience I mentioned when we first… reacquainted. I don't want to wait any longer than I need to and you  _did_ just say that Storybrooke's alleged saviour has been delayed. I have to return to Rumplestiltskin. He's taken enough from me and I  _refuse_  to let him take my soul too."

Despite his own uncertainty about whether or not he still needed his revenge, Killian was certain it was something that part of him would never stop wanting, boiling hatred still burning through him at the thought of the man. His face darkened, his lip curling and it was that which appeared to convince Cora of his sincerity.

"I suppose your loathing is enough of a motivator for me to entrust you with the knowledge you need." She admitted, passing a deliberating glance over him. "And what  _I_  need from you. There's a compass that means I can travel to an unfamiliar realm, but it is hidden away up the beanstalk. I assume you've seen the plant during your travels?"

"It is rather unmissable." Killian agreed. "I have to say, if you're expecting me to climb that monstrosity, I'm not looking forward to hearing those orders."

"That's exactly what I want, Hook." Cora said with short, cruel laugh. "I want you to climb it and bring the compass back. If you leave now, that gives you… how about two days? I'll find you at the base of the beanstalk and then, once the compass is in my hand and  _only_ then, should you attempt this plan alone, we'll travel to Lake Nostos and I will open the portal to your 'Storybrooke'."

"You'll open it how?"

"I think I'd prefer to keep that a mystery." Cora said sharply. "After all, if you have no understanding of how to open the portal, then you  _have_ to rely on me. Now, take this."

She held a leather cuff out towards him, sliding it onto his arm when he shrugged and gave her an expectant look. He could hardly put it on himself, not with one arm tied up, but he did manage to snatch a matching one off her own wrist. "And what is this?"

"The beanstalk is enchanted. You can't climb it without it." She told him, and he waited until she met his eyes before quickly pocketing the stolen cuff. He didn't want her following him, not if he could prevent it. " Now, I'd suggest you get going, Captain. Who knows how long the climb will take?"

"That and avoiding the giant." He pointed out, Cora's smirk widening at the reminder of the monster known to live at the top of the beanstalk. "How about we adjust that deal slightly? I'll go and get your compass, you don't need to worry about that, but I can't leave the camp just yet."

"You can't?"

"The others know you're here and they'll get suspicious if I'm gone when you return." He said uneasily, struggling to come up with an explanation that might persuade Cora that it was for the best that he remain behind for a few hours longer, until Emma and the others had returned.

Cora laughed again. "If they don't think that you're  _dead_ , their suspicions won't even matter once you've abandoned them in this realm."

"It's better for me to stick with them." He insisted, his words clearly bringing back the doubt that his hatred of Rumplestiltskin had managed to briefly douse. "Just until I reach the beanstalk."

"You  _are_ aware that they have no way home?" She queried, one eyebrow raised. "And that you've agreed to help me?"

"And help you I shall." He stated quickly. "But even you have to agree that I won't be much help if I'm soulless. Swan and her father will fight off the wraith if they're with me. They do that tonight and then I'm safe and free to journey to this beanstalk you wish me to climb."

Cora pursed her lips, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she glanced over him. "I suppose it would make things difficult if the wraith reached you, especially with one arm tied up like that. How about I meet you at the base of beanstalk in just  _over_ two days? It's up to you how long you're willing to wait for the others, but remember, if you don't return the compass to me, it's going to be more than your hand that you're missing."

She gestured behind her, at the bloody, heartless bodies piled around them. Killian swallowed, his own heart pounding furiously in his chest, even after the witch vanished in a puff of purple smoke.

He had always been aware that the vague plan Emma had suggested was dangerous, especially because deceiving Cora could only end badly. However, if Cora's words were true and she'd delayed Emma's return, it was even more important that he found a way to return Emma to her home.

If he got the compass and met Cora, he could tell Emma and David to wait for them at the lake Cora had spoken of so that they could hijack her portal back to Storybrooke. Yet, if things went wrong after he delivered the compass to Cora's waiting hands, then not only would they be stuck in this realm for an uncertain amount of time, but they'd have even more of an incentive to return.

Ideally, he'd destroy the compass, but he knew, for certain, that Cora wouldn't open the portal until the compass was in her hand and she knew, for certain, that she could get to where she needed to be.

Once she was there, Cora could wreak havoc on Storybrooke, and he wasn't sure if anyone would be able to stop it. They needed to leave her here, no matter how difficult it was.

~~~*~~~

Killian had never been particularly patient when it came to waiting, unless it involved something he valued. However, despite the fact that Emma was more important to him than anything, he struggled to remain at the camp.

Cora's deadline was weighing on him, the thought that he'd fail at her task and fail  _everyone_  heavier than he would have liked. Before Emma, he didn't know if he would have cared about the fates of others, so long as he got what he wanted, and even now, when his concern was focused on returning Emma and her family to their loved ones, there was a niggling, habitual urge to ignore their needs if it meant that he would survive.

A few hours longer, and it would be too dangerous to keep waiting on their return. Then again, if they never returned to the camp, if something had waylaid or harmed them, Killian supposed it wouldn't matter whether or not his heart was in his chest or in Cora's hands, because it would be broken anyway.

He'd wait until night fell and then, whether Emma was there or not, he would need to move to escape the wraith's curse.

It grew colder as he continued to wait, and once the sun passed the middle of the sky, Killian retreated behind one of the makeshift shelters to escape the crisp breeze and the sight of the heartless bodies. The silence was unsettling, the lack of movement and noise a constant reminder of what Cora had done, sparing him only because she needed him.

It was soon after he retreated behind the tent that he heard the murmur of conversation from the distance. There were no familiar voices, at least not at first. He knew when they were closer, when they were stood in the camp, because he could hear the horror seeping into their voices, sharp gasps and alarmed shrieks coming from them when they saw the devastation Cora had wrought.

"We left Killian here." The words were so quiet he almost missed them, but Emma's voice was unmistakable, despite how much it was shaking. "Do you… do you think he's here? Do you think we could even find him?"

She was panicked, her voice breaking and her breathing uneasy, but Killian  _knew_ it was her. The other voices were also closer and clearer, and he could make out David's attempt at a soothing voice and the clipped terse tones he already recognised as Mulan's.

"Swan?" He said loudly, stepping out from behind the shelter and smiling sheepishly at her. "Don't worry. I'm good at surviving."

David had his arm around her, appearing to be trying to comfort her, and the second Emma heard Killian's voice, she stiffened and pushed him away, her lip trembling as she stared at him.

"Surviving?" she repeated through a broken laugh, her eyebrows furrowing in anger. "I guess that's true."

He shrugged, wincing at the movement of his shoulder and it was that motion that seemed to snap her into action. She stumbled past David, pushing aside the arm he held out in an attempt to stop her and stepping over the bodies that lay between her and Killian.

"Don't." David shouted, and Killian's attention was drawn away from Emma when he heard the metallic ring of someone drawing a sword. "What about Cora?"

The question didn't make sense to Killian, not when they could share stories  _after_ Emma was reassured. It stopped Emma in her tracks though, her steps faltering as she clenched her fists and scowled at him.

"How do I… Cora could be anyone." She told him, her lips trembling again and uncertainty plain in her eyes.

"What?" Killian breathed, looking past her in the hopes that one of the others would give him an explanation. "What are you talking about?"

"David's right. How do I know you're you?" Emma asked cautiously, staying a few steps away from him and wringing her hands together. Killian frowned at her, moving a few feet closer to Emma but stopping when she darted further away from him. "You… What day did we first kiss?"

"What?" Killian said again, ignoring David's strangled noise and Aurora's surprised murmur. " _What_?"

"Just answer the question." She demanded. "What day? Or don't you know?"

"Christmas." He answered and watched Emma's expression crumble, her lips trembling and her entire body relaxing in relief. "Then, the next time, on Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's…" Emma's voice faded away, a sob preventing her from finishing her words, and then she rushed across the space between them, a grunt escaping him when she threw her arms around him, his own arms rising easily to wrap around her waist and hold her close. "You're  _you_."

He nodded, nestling his head into the curve of her shoulder and taking a moment to breath her in. It felt, for a moment, like she was never going to let him go, her fingers clutching at his leather jacket, but then her grip eased and she relaxed against him.

"I'm me." He whispered, a smile dancing across his lips when she tilted her head back to look at him and then brushed her lips over his, a brief, grateful kiss that felt like something new and immeasurably precious. "Don't worry."

"So where were you when all this happened?" David said loudly, his voice terse and angry. Killian doubted Emma's sudden display of relieved affection had helped his mood. "Standing by and watching? Why are  _you_ the only one still alive?"

"I was in the pit. Where you left me." He answered curtly, feeling Emma's embrace tighten once again. "I could hardly climb out of the pit, could I? Cora let me out  _after_ all this chaos."

" _You_ know Cora?"

"I knew." Emma said suddenly, the words muffled by their hug. David blinked, staring at the two of them in surprise. "Not about the shapeshifting or any of that craziness but he told me. Hook told me that he knew her and that she was here. I didn't… I didn't think you needed to know if she was trapped with him. Before we left, he said she'd suggested that they work together and I told him to play along."

"Play along?"

She pulled away, her arms remaining locked around him even after she put space between them. "No matter what you think, David, I'm glad he did that. It probably kept him alive. Kept him  _here_."

"She told me to get something for her, Swan." Killian told her, his voice quiet as he attempted to keep the conversation solely between the two of them instead of involving David and the others. "That line in the distance, the one that reaches up to the clouds? It's a beanstalk. Once I get what she needs from up there, Cora will open the portal. I'll get home."

"And what does  _that_  mean?" She asked loudly, shoving herself fully away from him and crossing her arms. "Splitting up again? You really think that's a good idea?"

He didn't answer. His suggestion seemed to have angered her, even though he could see no other course of action. Instead, he started to walk away, carefully stepping over the bodies. The others didn't follow him until he passed the furthest watch tower, Killian pausing when he heard them stumbling after them.

"Where are you going, Hook?" David called after him.

"To the beanstalk." He replied, shouting back over his shoulder. "Come with me or don't, but make sure to be at Lake Nostos in two days. Cora's going to open a portal there. I intend to go through it."

~~~*~~~

They had all followed him, Mulan more begrudgingly than the others. Emma hadn't said much since he'd walked away from the camp, but once she began to walk after him, David had pursued without question.

For a while, Emma had stuck by his side although she hadn't shared any words with him except for a sharp insistence that they'd all be accompanying him, especially Mulan and her wraith-repelling sword. Mulan hadn't had a say in that decision, although Phillip's earnest agreement had pulled a resentful murmur of acknowledgement from the warrior.

After a long silence, however, Emma left his side and David took her place.

"Emma may trust that you're really you, but I don't." David's words drew his gaze away from Emma, who was still walking ahead and talking with Mulan. "I'm still not sure."

"You should believe her. She knows when people are lying, remember?" Killian pointed out, shaking his head in disbelief when David's suspicious expression remained unchanging. "Of all of you, she'd be the hardest to fool."

"Usually, maybe." David conceded. "But I think you're underestimating how much she wants to believe you escaped Cora unscathed. And if you  _are_  Cora, I wouldn't put it past you to find out a few facts to help sell your act."

"You really think I would tell Cora when I first kissed Emma?" He asked, amused by the thought of sharing such intimate details with a woman he despised. "I don't know what you think of me now, but I assure you, I'm not that much of a gossip."

"Well, your first kisses with Emma should have been momentous occasions." David spluttered. "The last things you wanted to think about before Cora killed you."

"Dave, do you really want me to rhapsodize about your daughter?" Killian said through a surprised chuckle. "I mean, I will but I hardly thought you would want to have such a conversation. Unless that's all that will convince you of my identity."

"I… well, no. You're right about that being a conversation I don't want to hear. But I do know that if she chose to kiss you, it is something you should  _always_ remember."

"What would be sufficient?"

David turned towards him, his eyes narrowed. "Okay, so you once showed me the way to somewhere in Storybrooke when I needed to meet Mary-Margaret? Pretty soon after I woke up from my coma? Where was I going?"

It was a good question, although the answer didn't spring easily to mind. It had been months since David was lost enough in Storybrooke to actually ask for directions. "The toll bridge."

David grinned, reaching out to pat Killian's back in a surprisingly friendly gesture. "Okay, at least I know you're you now. So, what I would like to talk about would be this plan you've come up with with  _Cora_ of all people. How do you know her, because honestly, I don't exactly like the thought of my daughter canoodling with anyone, but with someone who knows Cora? That just makes it worse."

"I'm not going to deny that Cora and I have more of a history than our time together in the pit." Killian stated honestly, raising an eyebrow at David's obvious irritation at his declaration. "And it isn't one I'm proud of. Put simply, we worked together against Regina until I decided the curse seemed more favourable than whatever Cora might have in mind."

"You really didn't know that she was Lancelot?"

"What do you mean?" Killian asked. "I didn't even know she could escape the pit until I found myself alone. How was she Lancelot?"

"We got to the palace. Or what used to be the palace." David's voice broke slightly. Killian grimaced, unable to even imagine what it must have been like for him to see the remains of his old home. "When we found the wardrobe, Lancelot showed up and said he wanted to help us carry it back to the camp. He kept talking about there being a way to recharge it. But… he knew more than we'd told him and when I called him out, he turned into Cora. Emma set the wardrobe on fire to stop Cora. We didn't know she had another way back and…"

"I told Emma that I would get her home."

"And Emma thought you were dead." David admitted. "She… Emma and I weren't too close in Storybrooke. After Cora destroyed the way back, everything seemed to hit Emma all at once and I didn't really know what to do. Mary-Margaret would probably be better at all this parenting stuff than I am. I mean, she was  _so_ upset. The ruined nursery, thinking that you were dead. I've never seen her like that and I didn't know what to do."

Killian looked ahead of him. Emma seemed alright, although her fists were clenched and she seemed to be responding curtly to any of Mulan's questions. "So what  _did_ you do?"

"Reminded her that our family always find one another and then I gave her a hug." David muttered. "I don't know how helpful it was."

"If it helps, she looks alright now." Killian offered hesitantly. "As alright as she's looked since we left Storybrooke, anyway. It seems like you knew what to say, even if you disagree."

David chuckled bitterly, and then the two men walked in silence for a while.

Even with his days spent idly in the pit, the walk from Aurora's palace to the Safe Haven had left his legs stiff and his feet heavy, a feeling that came far more quickly during his second hike through the woods.

Killian ran his hand across his face, feeling the healing scratches left from the first fight with the wraith and prodding tentatively at his nose. It throbbed at the touch, but once he relieved the pressure it felt fine again. At least it no longer appeared swollen.

If David didn't have his true memories, Killian knew they'd be talking for most of the walk. David had liked to talk, about Mary-Margaret or about the varying dogs at the animal shelter, and he'd always been even more loquacious when they occasionally ran into one another at the Rabbit Hole.

David didn't say another word to him.

~~~*~~~

Despite being uncertain whether or not he had the time to stop, the deadline Cora had set him ticking down too quickly, Killian sat down with the others when they decided they'd been walking for too long. Unlike him, they'd been travelling for days so he couldn't deny them the chance to rest.

He leant back against the tree and watched the others attempt to settle for the night. Aurora and Phillip seemed able to sleep anywhere as long as they were in each other's arms, so they quickly found a sheltered space under the trees. Mulan had sat protectively in front of them, but after Emma's reminder that the wraith was still chasing them, she had at least handed Killian her magic-deflecting sword before dozing off.

David had set a small fire in the centre of the clearing, and although he had spent a while tending to it, he had fallen asleep while doing so, his chin resting against his chest and a loud snore occasionally coming from his direction.

Killian himself couldn't sleep, not when he knew how precious each minute was and not when he was listening out for the haunting cries of the souls that the wraith had taken before.

He wasn't the only one awake. Emma was curled up near to Killian, the fire reflecting in her open eyes. She kept glancing over at him, although she remained as quiet as she had been since leaving the Safe Haven.

He tapped his fingers anxiously against his thigh, counting every second that passed as though that would mean he  _wasn't_ wasting time.

"Eager to get back to Storybrooke?" Emma's voice sounded strange, and when he tried to meet her gaze, she refused to look at him. "You seem impatient."

"It will be nice to be back somewhere familiar." He answered quietly, not wanting to wake any of the others. "The Enchanted Forest has changed a lot throughout my lifetime but it's never seemed as strange as it does now. Besides, the Jolly Roger's back in Storybrooke and I'd like to be reunited with her."

Emma swallowed and then fell quiet again. Killian had started to wonder if she was asleep when she finally spoke again. "How is it strange? This place? How is it strange for  _you_?"

"I'm not saying it's worse for me than it is for you. The Enchanted Forest is more of shock to you than it could ever be for me." Killian said placatingly. "But the last time I was in this realm, it was busy and now, it feels empty. Abandoned."

"Yeah… David's face when he saw the palace nursery. My nursery, I guess." Emma muttered. "I didn't really think about what it would be like for you and for David. How long  _was_ this place your home? I mean, you said something about centuries a couple of days ago but… that's crazy."

"This place?" He answered, a quiet chuckle escaping him when Emma finally turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised. "Not as long as you seem to be thinking. I travelled the seas of this realm for several years, but I've spent most of my life in another. In Neverland. Time doesn't pass there, the same way time didn't pass under the curse back in Storybrooke. Saying I've been alive for centuries is probably as accurate I can be. It's hard to keep track of time when nothing ever changes."

"You were always with the Jolly Roger, though?" She questioned quietly. Emma looked slightly overwhelmed by his announcement, but at his nod, her wide-eyed expression faded into a sad, resigned look that Killian didn't understand.

"Swan?"

"You know, Hook," she began, speaking through a yawn. "I'm not angry with you anymore. I understand why you kept it all hidden, even if I wish you hadn't. Now I know who you really are though, I feel like I'm just waiting for you to prove that you're just like the Captain Hook I've read about."

"Emma, why are you-?"

"Because when I realised you weren't dead, I kissed you." She admitted in a whisper. "And false hope is worse than no hope at all. If I'm always wondering what sort of person you really are, if I don't  _know_ you anymore, then there isn't any hope for us. I can't keep waiting for you to leave me."

He gaped at her, protestations on his tongue but unable to be voiced. Her words had hardly been convincing, her voice tremulous and her gaze unable to meet his. Perhaps she was convincing herself more than him, as when he reached towards her, she turned away from him, her head resting on her arms and her eyes fluttering closed.

"I need to sleep." She explained, shuffling to put even more distance between them. He doubted that she was going to listen to another word, no matter what he tried to say.

Killian couldn't lose hope. Emma's very presence had always made him lighter and more hopeful than anything in the previous centuries ever had, and although he didn't know for certain, he liked to think his presence did something similar for her.

After all, she had spent so long fighting against what they shared, and he was certain she wouldn't have needed to do so if he didn't make her feel something powerful enough to scare her. Eventually, she'd made the decision to be with him, although she hadn't been ready for any further change, for the curse to break.

A selfish part of him wished it never had.

Emma stirred as the howling sounds marking the wraith's arrival began to screech through the air. Killian picked up Mulan's sword from it's place on the ground beside him and stood up. She hadn't slept in days, neither had the others, and with Mulan's sword in his hand, he was nowhere near as defenseless as he'd been in the previous days.

He could fight the wraith without waking them.

The wraith swooped down on him when there were only a few trees between him and the others, its shriek piercing through him and making him tense, the sword held firmly in his grip. He swiped the blade out towards the creature and it moved back, its arm outstretched but just far enough away so that Killian didn't feel the unpleasant tug to his soul.

"You will not have me." Killian hissed, lunging forward and thrusting the blade towards the creature, and like it had done before, when Mulan attacked it, it appeared to flicker when the blade made contact, an anguished cry echoing from the monster. "Not while they still need me."

It made one final attempt, but Killian knew how to fight, pivoting around and slashing the blade through the Qui Shen.

One final wail, and then it was gone, the wind quieting so that he could only hear David's snores and the whistle of air passing between the trees.

He caught his breath, standing alone in the darkness. With Mulan's sword, he didn't need them to follow him. He could defend himself.

Travelling with him was dangerous, he'd always known that much, but with a sword at his side, he didn't need the others to protect him. Going alone would be better and faster, as well as making things far safer for the others should Cora be watching.

The thought hadn't crossed his mind before, but he should have considered the possibility that Cora wasn't truly leaving him unwatched as he carried out what she believed to be her plan. If she was, and if she'd seen his reunion with the group, it would be clear that his loyalties were not with her.

His insistence to remain with Emma and the others had most likely already put them in more danger than necessary. The wraith was a constant threat, and Cora would have most likely left them alone if he hadn't dragged them into the journey to the beanstalk.

Telling them the plan to open the portal at Lake Nostos and then splitting up would have been best, despite Emma's displeasure at such a suggestion, and he had been selfish enough to agree with her alternative.

He wanted to be at Emma's side, and he hadn't considered how things could go wrong.

Now he had.

He didn't want to leave any of them, especially Emma, and he  _knew_  she didn't want him to go. Yet, if she truly believed what she had said, that there was no hope for them, then he wasn't losing anything by leaving her. Instead, he was simply keeping her safe, keeping Cora and anything the witch had planned far away from Emma until it was time to abandon Cora and return back home.

If leaving Emma behind while he did what was necessary would mean their relationship remained the way it was now, instead of the way it had been before, then he'd rather let it end like that. It was better than the possibility that Cora might hurt Emma, or worse, leave her trapped in the Enchanted Forest with no way back to her son.

With Mulan's sword still in his grip, he walked away and left them all behind.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos/subscribes/bookmarks! And, of course, thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

** Chapter 28 **

Killian had often travelled alone, but the knowledge that the wraith could return at any moment meant that he felt uneasier than usual. He still believed that leaving the others had been the right choice, but soon after walking away, there was a nagging doubt haunting him, that maybe it would have been better to stay.

He supposed he could go back to them, but every time he caught a glimpse of the rising sun through the forest canopy, he remembered how little time he had left to retrieve the compass and he steeled himself to keep going.

There were also times he paused because he heard a suspicious rustling behind him, although he never took the opportunity to investigate the noise. If it was Cora following him, he'd rather pretend he hadn't noticed, and if it was anything else, then it was even more unlikely he'd want to interact with them. The Enchanted Forest had too many dangers for him to turn around and rifle through the bushes in search of his pursuer.

When he neared the border of the forest, he heard a stumble and he turned to see Emma, clearly having just tripped on a tree branch, her arms outstretched to balance herself.

"For god's sake, are you  _deaf_?" she snapped, yawning halfway through the question. "I've been following you for hours!"

Killian blinked at her. He hadn't expected Emma to follow him, he hadn't  _wanted_ her to. "What are you doing?"

"Following you?" she repeated, straightening up and brushing dirt off her clothes, making him wonder just how many times she'd tripped as they walked through the dark woods. "And by the way, we had sex on the deck of your ship one time."

He swallowed at the memory, his mouth going dry, and then narrowed his eyes at her, even more confused. "I remember. Does that have something to do with why you're here?"

"No, but unless you told Cora about that night, that should prove that I'm me." She hissed. "Now, where the hell are you going? I guess I didn't have to wait too long for you to up and leave."

It hadn't even crossed his mind that Emma could have been Cora, but that was hardly the most important thing he needed to think about. Emma was furious, her arms folded and her eyebrows furrowed, and all Killian wanted to do was make her understand. "I was going to return to you." He insisted, but Emma simply scoffed. "I thought it would be quicker if I reached the compass alone, and it's not like you didn't need the rest. If I intended to leave, I would not have waited for you at the camp. Trust me, Emma, abandoning you would be much easier if you thought I was dead."

"Rest? As if I could get rest with you and the wraith making all that noise!" She spat. "For a centuries old pirate, you're a clumsy fighter."

"I  _do_  only have one working arm." He replied quickly, shrugging his injured shoulder pointedly and then wincing.

"And yet you think you can climb a beanstalk? You could barely climb over a wall with that sling on, never mind up that ridiculous plant!" She said, her voice louder than before. "Why couldn't you just have  _waited?_ Why did you walk away?"

Her voice cracked and she swallowed, visibly forcing away whatever emotions were about to be written clearly across her face. If he hadn't been so certain she'd step away if he reached out for her, he would have attempted to comfort her somehow, but instead, all that happened was that he realised  _just_ how stupid his decision to leave had truly been.

"I wanted to get you  _home_." He swore earnestly. "And I wanted to keep you safe."

Emma laughed bitterly, storming past him and starting to stomp towards the beanstalk. He hurried after her. "I don't need you to keep me safe. And that lie about getting me home, well, back at the Safe Haven, you said that  _you_ needed to get home. Nothing to do with me."

"I was in a hurry. I wasn't thinking." He said quickly. He didn't remember exactly what he said the day before, but he had no reason to doubt Emma. "I know you think everything has changed, but can you at least try and trust that I'm still doing everything for  _you_?"

"Still? The entire time we've known one another, all you've done is hide things. When did you ever,  _really_ , do anything for  _me_?"

Killian shook his head. Her stubbornness might have amused him if he had been able to think of a response, but instead, all he could do was wonder if he even had an answer to the question. His feelings for Emma had motivated him for such a long time, but perhaps he was as selfish as he'd always been.

"Well, that was a really insightful answer." She mumbled angrily, huffing loudly when he hurried to catch up with her. "Just… we'll climb this beanstalk, get back to Storybrooke and figure things out when we're back there. I don't have the time to think about this, about  _you_ , right now. Can't you just make things a bit easier?"

"That's what I was trying to do."

"It's  _not_ easier with you gone." She stated. Killian turned to gape at her, but it was clear that she had spoken without thinking, as she quickly turned away, a closed expression hiding even her anger from him. "Think about that the next time you want to walk away."

He sighed, but decided not to attempt to explain what thoughts had led to his, admittedly impulsive, departure. Instead, they walked silently towards the beanstalk, although the vine seemed unending no matter how much distance they covered.

The idea of climbing it was a daunting one, and Killian felt an unpleasant twinge in his collarbone as he considered the climb ahead of him.

He supposed he'd have to take his sling off, as climbing one-handed wasn't likely to get him very far up the beanstalk. However, Killian had experienced plenty of anguish in his life, and climbing a beanstalk with an aching shoulder was unlikely to compare to the drawn-out and recurring phantom pains that had haunted him after the loss of his hand.

Those thoughts weren't ones he wanted to dwell on and so, despite Emma's apparent determination to reach the base of the plant in silence, he finally spoke up.

"What's your father going to think when he wakes to find us both gone?" He asked. "That we've run off together or that I've stolen you away for some nefarious plan?"

"My fa… right, David." She stammered, grimacing at his words. "Still not used to that. I woke him before I left and told him that I was following you. As for a nefarious plan, I don't know what he thinks except that he knows you left. I doubt he thinks you did that for any morally upstanding reasons."

"Yet he isn't running after us and clamouring about your virtue?"

"I don't think David wants to know any more about my 'virtue'. Between me and Mary-Margaret, he probably knows  _more_ than enough." She laughed for only a second, drawing her lips together into a tight line and then looking away from him. "No, he… I told him to stay with the others and meet us at the bottom of the beanstalk later. After we've found the compass."

"We?"

"You're not going up that thing alone."

~~~*~~~

Standing at the base of the beanstalk, it still looked unending. Emma sat at the base of it, the magical cuff clipped around her wrist, as Killian attempted to undo the tight knot holding his sling in place.

He had considered telling Emma that he only had the one magic cuff, forcing her to remain behind as he climbed, but he felt certain that such an attempt to protect her would ultimately end up hurting her more. Emma was a capable woman, more than capable, and although he wanted to keep her safe, there was a difference between trying to keep her distanced from Cora and actively denying her the opportunity to do something.

Besides, she'd know if he lied to her about it and, even if she went along with the story he might give her, he refused to damage the trust between them any more than he already had.

Emma grew impatient, standing up and striding over to him. She grabbed his arm and tugged him towards her, fingers pulling at the knotted fabric until the sling fell off his arm. "That better?"

He grunted in response, rolling his shoulder in an attempt to loosen the joint, his arm stiff after days of not moving it. The motion ached, sharp shocks of pain shooting from his collarbone and down his arm, and when he raised his arm up, the ache in his shoulder almost made him drop it back down to his side.

"If it's too much for you, I can go alone." Emma suggested, her narrowed eyes fixed on his shoulder.

"No."

Emma rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything more. Instead, she turned to the beanstalk and began to climb.

The first several metres were painful, but once he was high enough that the fall would kill him, it was as if adrenaline was keeping the agony away. It was hard work, and it wasn't helped by the silence between him and Emma.

It felt like hours had passed before anything happened other than their silent ascent, his shoulder giving way as soon as he tried to put his weight on it. He slipped, gripping tightly to the beanstalk with his hand and pulling himself close to the stem, his feet scrambling for purchase against the smooth surface.

"Killian?"

He took a deep breath, resting his forehead against the cool stem of the beanstalk. "Give me a moment, Swan."

He glanced up at her, noticing concern flickering across her face. He tried to smile reassuringly, and then continued determinedly scaling the beanstalk. He could feel her gaze on him as he crossed the space between them and once they were level, he heard her take a deep breath and then she just started  _talking_.

For a while, she just spoke of Henry, of interesting little stories he had told her before the curse broke. Her words were a pleasant distraction, nulling the pain as he continued to climb, although it became clear very quickly that although what she was saying was helping  _him,_  the thoughts of Henry and how things had been before the curse were a bit too difficult for Emma.

"So… have you seen your Disney film?"

From the way Emma had faltered before, Killian had believed the conversation over, but when he paused to breathe and glance over at her, her mouth was thin and determined and he was hit by a wave of surprise. Emma was going to talk to him until they reached the top, until he could put his arm back to his side and keep it unmoving.

He smiled at her, his heart pounding at the realisation that no matter how difficult it was for Emma, she was going to keep talking and distracting him until they reached the top.

"My what?" He asked, heaving himself a few inches further up the beanstalk.

"Your Disney film." She repeated. "You know, Peter Pan."

Killian grimaced. "I've seen it. In its box at the library." He informed her, taken aback by her short giggle in response. "I'm rather disinclined to watch anything with that demon's name as its title."

"Oh." She said shortly. "I suppose I was just going to say that you don't exactly look like the Hook that everyone imagines. Less… well, ridiculous. And with better hair. Did they get Peter Pan as wrong as they got you? I don't think most people would describe him as a demon, even if the whole 'Stealing children away' thing isn't a great thing to do."

"He's the worst villain I've ever faced." He told her, moving even further up the plant. "A person as cruel as Pan is dangerous enough, but one that can inspire such loyalty in others, well, that's far worse. The Lost Boys will do what he orders without question. For a long time, I did the same. He knew exactly what to say to get me to do his bidding."

"You  _worked_ for Pan? I wasn't expecting that."

"I had only one purpose back then. Before Storybrooke, before  _you_." He explained, fixing his gaze on the stem of the beanstalk instead of meeting Emma's stare. He was tempted to look down, ashamed at the truth he was admitting to her, but the sight of the ground so far below them was one he didn't want to see. Not that he needed to look at Emma to judge her reaction to his words. He'd said similar things before and she always acted the same - a sharp intake of breath and a flutter of her eyelashes, disbelief plain in her eyes - and he could hear that this time was no different. "I would have done anything for anyone if led me to my revenge."

She didn't say anything for a long while, possibly even hours, although it felt like time had lost its meaning during the monotony of the climb.

The clouds actually seemed nearby when she finally spoke again, her voice a low whisper. "I've only seen it once. The film." Killian paused to look at her. She'd stopped climbing too, one arm hooked around a vine to keep her in place, the other hand tapping against the thick stem. "One of my foster homes had it on video. For months after I saw it, I would wish every night that Peter Pan would come and take me away from everything. Neverland seemed far better than the places I was in. Not that I thought I had enough happy thoughts to fly there anyway."

Killian swallowed, uncertain how to respond. He hadn't her expected to confide anything like that to him, not when their relationship was so unclear and difficult. It had been enough of a surprise that she'd opened up to him the day before the curse broke, when she was in his arms and they'd just shared lunch sat on the floor of the pawn shop.

"Do you have enough happy thoughts now?" He asked nervously and she turned her head sharply to frown at him, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Well, I don't really want to go to Neverland any more." She murmured, her knuckles white as she held even tighter to the plant. "But yeah, maybe. I mean, I have Henry now, and I have… had, well…" She met her gaze for only a moment, her expression softening almost imperceptibly and he felt his heart beating furiously when he realised what she had intended to say. "Look, we're nearly there. We should just keep moving, right?"

He smiled softly, unable to even try and mask the tenderness that he knew was clear on his face. "Right."

After that, it took them less than an hour to break through the clouds and find themselves in the towering kingdom of the giants.

They clambered off the beanstalk in unison. Killian felt his legs shake on the solid ground, his arms aching painfully and despite the grinding feeling, he rolled both his shoulders and stretched out his arms. The climb had been unpleasant, but Killian was already thinking that the return trip would be even worse.

Emma hadn't moved. "What  _happened_ here?" she asked, and he followed her gaze to a giant skeleton, even the smallest bone at least as big as Killian's leg. "It's… they're all dead."

He had been too focused on his pained limbs to take in the devastation that surrounded them, clear signs of a battle years previously strewn across the cobbled floor. "This must be where the final battle was."

"That makes things easier, right?" she asked. "If all the giants are gone."

"One still remains. The fiercest of all the giants." He pointed out, watching her step further into the centre of the courtyard, his gaze catching on her hand. It was red with blood, although he wasn't certain if Emma had even noticed. "Swan, your hand?"

"My what?" She murmured, turning her hand palm up to look at the deep line scratched along it. "Crap."

"Give it here." He ordered softly. Despite rolling her eyes, she offered him her hand to examine it. It was deeper than he would have liked, but it was barely bleeding, something she clearly obtained earlier in their climb. "Does it hurt?"

"It does now that I know it's there." She told him with a bitter laugh.

He wished that he had his flask of rum with him, or anything he could use to clean the injury, but his flask was back in the cabin of the Jolly Roger, and he hadn't thought to have it on him as the others tried to help him escape the wraith.

Instead, he held her wrist with his hook and used his hand to rummage through his pocket for the scarf he had used as a sling.

"Hook, if you use that for this, I'm going to kill you." she warned, but he didn't listen, starting to carefully wrap the fabric around her hand. "You need that for your arm."

He shook his head. His shoulder ached, that was true, but it was a less pressing issue than Emma's bleeding hand.

"I have to climb back down the beanstalk in a few hours. There's no point retying it, especially when it'll be difficult to undo it with you gone." He explained, a brief smirk crossing his face when he bent to take the edge of the fabric between his teeth and pull the knot tight, Emma's breath audibly catching as his eyes never left her own. "Now, the plan is that we wait until the giant falls asleep. When he does, we'll sneak past him into his cave. That's where the treasures are - where the compass lies."

"And then?" Emma asked breathlessly, her eyelashes fluttering when she met his gaze.

"And then you run like hell."

He pressed a kiss to her palm, just above the make-shift bandage, and she quickly pulled her hand away. "Me? What will you be doing?"

"Waiting." Killian stated, leading Emma across the courtyard to a small alcove in the palace walls, somewhere that they could hide. "You need to get back before Cora gets close, and Cora needs to see me returning from this land. She needs to have no doubt that I did what she wanted."

Emma swallowed, the soft expression that had graced her face since he tended to her hand fading away into a hard, unreadable one. "You're still set on us splitting up then?"

"There's no other way."

They waited for a while in the small alcove, each minute that passed reminding Killian that despite needing to wait for the giant to be unaware, they didn't have unlimited time to wait. They had no way of knowing what the giant was doing, and he had to wonder if the giant was already sleeping. After all, there had been no suggestions of movement since their arrival.

"So what was this battle about then?" Emma asked. She'd spent the time waiting by fidgeting nervously with the bandage around her hand and glancing, open-mouthed, around the massive courtyard, but clearly the silence between them had finally drawn out too long for Emma. "In all the stories I know, there's never even more than two giants anyway."

"I'm hardly an expert on the subject, love. I wasn't in this realm at the time." He told her, shrugging painfully. "However, everyone knew the giants were the only ones who grew magic beans. I know enough of your realm's stories to know that magic beans aren't like the ones in your tales. Here, they open portals. The giants used them to travel between realms and spread destruction and devastation to everything they encountered. I assume that was why man attacked."

"So no magic cow or magic harp then?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"So, Hook, if these magic beans can open portals, why are you so set on sticking to Cora's plan? We get one of them and we don't have to split up." Emma suggested, and Killian sighed exasperatedly. He truly wished there was another way, but he knew magic beans were almost impossible to find. "Couldn't we do that?"

"It's well-known that the giants destroyed all the beans once they realised they were under attack." He explained. "If I thought we could find one and use that, believe me, we'd be doing exactly that. Unfortunately, they're all gone."

Emma didn't believe him, he could tell that much, but Killian was growing aware that each time he insisted the plan required going their separate ways, her trust in him was breaking just a bit more.

He didn't know how to convince her that he really was just trying to get her home. He thought he sounded desperate when he told her just that.

"If all you want to do is get me back … to Storybrooke," she snapped, and he noticed how she avoided calling it 'home'. "Then why did you walk away without a word? Why didn't you say that before you  _left_?" She didn't give him a chance to say anything in response. "Let's move. If he's already asleep, we don't want to hang around until he wakes up again."

~~~*~~~

The inside of the giants lair was filled with piles of treasure, glinting golden objects catching Killian's eye no matter which direction he faced. He couldn't quell a smirk, wandering between the various piles and examining the objects.

Emma was more focussed, reminding Killian often that they were only up the beanstalk for one thing, and that they hardly had the time to waste looking at the different items. Even her words weren't enough to stop him from getting waylaid by a mass of golden coins.

They were heavier than they looked, and his grin widened as he tapped his finger against the solid metal and then rolled the coin between his fingers. "So, Swan, how much treasure do you think we could carry down the beanstalk?" She spun around to face him, one eyebrow raised. "In addition to the compass, of course."

To his surprise, she smiled. "You know, I can see the whole pirate-thing now." she said, gesturing towards him. "I guess you're more like a pirate than I thought."

His smile faded slightly, his fist clenching around the gold coin. "Yes, well, I suppose I have stolen more than my fair share of gold in my time."

"You know, I used to do that." She admitted quietly, stepping towards him and trailing a finger across the coins. "Tap things and stuff before I took them. I never managed to get any gold, but I got what I needed."

"Before prison?"

"Yeah, before." She murmured. "And a few times after. Before I got a job. But I'm not going to steal if I don't need to."

He nodded, rolling the coin between his fingers once more and then he held it towards her. "For you?"

She glanced from him to the coin, and then shook her head. "We're here to find the compass. Not to be the next Jack and the Beanstalk."

"I don't think that story goes how you think it does." He told her, reaching out to press the coin into her uninjured hand. "Look. You should keep it. For luck."

She met his gaze, swallowed, and then he watched her close her fingers around the coin, holding it tightly for a moment before putting it in the pocket of her jacket. She muttered something as she did that, but Killian wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

He thought she had said that she might as well keep something to remember him by.

"Swan, you won't need to remember me." From the way her gaze shot back to his, he figured he'd heard correctly. "Why do you think I'll leave you? Neal?"

She swallowed. "I didn't think you'd remember his name. It's been months since I mentioned it."

"Why would I forget something important that you told me?"

Emma took a deep breath, bit her lip as though readying herself to say something, and then just walked away. "Now isn't the time to chat." she called back towards him, her voice low so as not to wake the giant, wherever it was. "Hurry up."

He followed her silently through the rest of the giant's home, neither of them stopping until they reached a skeleton strewn across the floor, sword in its hand. Even then, he said only a few words, telling her that the body was the Jack of legend and the sword was more powerful than it looked.

If she didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to try otherwise.

He didn't expect to feel her hand close around his wrist and tug him back, towards her, and he raised his arms instinctively to wrap them around her as he crashed into her. She exhaled heavily in response, her hands resting against his back. Despite being certain that Emma hadn't suddenly desired an embrace, he relaxed for a second and revelled in the feeling of her against him.

It had only been days, but Killian had missed such closeness.

"Swan?"

"There's a trip wire." She breathed, her grip tightening on his leather jacket for a moment before she wriggled out of his grip. "You're lucky that at least  _I_ was watching where you were going. This giant has  _quite_ a security system."

Killian noticed her glance up at the ceiling and he copied the motion, his eyes widening when he saw the giant-sized cage hanging above them. "Yes, that does seem rather more effective than the alarm outside the pawn shop."

Emma rolled her eyes and then waved her hand towards the wire. "After you."

"Of course. I do enjoy having you watch my back." He said with a chuckle, carefully taking a big step over the wire. "Be careful, love."

"Why do I even bother?" He heard Emma mutter, although from the small smile, he had managed to amuse her with his comment. "Maybe next time, I'll just let you wander into whatever's in your way. You'll be less smug with a cage around you."

"If you want to imprison me again, Swan, I'd be more than happy to relive our last prison cell encounter." He shot back, enjoying the playful tone her voice had taken on since she'd saved him. "From what I recall, it was quite pleasant."

"I don't remember that ending particularly well." Emma pointed out, her mood already back to the distant one she seemed to be affecting whenever he wasn't in danger. "What with all the questions you refused to answer."

He knew Emma was aware that he couldn't have answered any of her questions satisfactorily, but if she wanted to try and use the way he had avoided the truth as a reason to run, he wasn't going to fight the decision.

He just hoped that, as had happened last time, she couldn't deny whatever she felt for too long.

As Emma had said, however, it was hardly the time to dwell on possibilities. Instead, they continued weaving through the mounds of treasure and precariously stacked furniture, rifling through each pile in an attempt to find the compass.

He even held Emma up so she could search through various objects perched on the top of a small cage, groaning at the pain that shot through him once her feet were balanced on his shoulders.

"Crap." She hissed, and he took that as a signal that she was ready to come down, bending his knees slightly so she could easily step back to the floor. "I'm pretty sure we've searched everywhere and we haven't found this stupid compass!"

"Well, we haven't searched everywhere." He pointed out. "This room, certainly, but the giant's somewhere we have yet to find."

~~~*~~~

The giant had been sleeping in one of the rooms just off the large hall they had been exploring, his snores so loud they made the room shake, and Killian wasn't sure how they'd managed to remain oblivious to his location for so long.

Although the compass hadn't been visible on the giant's person, Killian had scoured the surroundings to no avail, and it had soon become clear to both he and Emma that one of them was going to have to search through the giant's pockets in a final attempt to locate the object they needed.

Killian had volunteered, Emma fetching Jack's sword and standing guard as he began to carefully search the giant. His moves had been slow and measured, but after a while, he'd withdrawn from the creature with a shrunken magic bean that the giant had worn on a chain around his neck, as well as the compass that had been hidden in the giant's human-sized pocket.

Hopefully, when the giant awoke, it would take a while for him to realise that he was missing a couple of things.

They'd run back through the lair, back out to the courtyard, before he had the opportunity to show Emma either of his acquisitions.

"I'm guessing you got it." she asked breathlessly, and he nodded, a grin splitting his face. "Can I see?"

The compass was a masterpiece, crafted from gold with an ornate design on the face, the needle wobbling only slightly as it pointed towards Emma. "It's more beautiful than legend." He murmured, watching Emma trail her fingers over the face before he tucked it back into the inside of his jacket.

He considered showing her the bean as well, which was already hanging off one of his own necklaces and tucked under his shirt, but he doubted she'd even care that he'd taken a useless trinket as a memory of their adventure.

"I suppose it's time for you to head back down then." He said quietly, wishing he could accompany her back down if only to make sure she made it to the ground safely. "We spent longer here than I intended and I don't how long we have until Cora meets me at the base. You  _have_ to be back with David before then."

"So you haven't reconsidered?" She asked, her eyes narrowed and locked on his. "You're  _still_ set on staying behind?"

Killian inhaled deeply, the tremor in Emma's voice making him regret ever coming up with the convoluted plan that he'd forced the others into. He had no choice now, though, except to follow it all through. Emma wouldn't get home otherwise.

"Good luck on the climb down." He stated anxiously, peering past Emma to look at the massive drop behind her. "I really do wish I could accompany you."

She turned back to look at him, her face hard and her fists clenched. "You could. If you really wanted to."

"Emma…"

She shook her head and exhaled in frustration. "I guess this is goodbye then, Hook."

"Only for now." He promised. Emma sighed, her eyes roaming from his face to the pocket where he'd stored the compass, and although he knew he was sincere, he wasn't sure if Emma was allowing herself to believe it. "We'll be back together as soon as I am able to return to you."

Emma blinked, her eyes red-rimmed, as though she was about to cry, and then she bit her lip and nodded. Killian tilted his head in question, wondering what had led to such a decisive action.

He wasn't prepared for her to surge towards him, her lips crashing onto his. His surprised grunt was muffled by her kiss, his mind going blank when she pulled herself even closer to him. It had been too long since they'd shared such passion, and he responded eagerly, slipping his arms around her, his hand tangled in the ends of her hair and his hook pressed to the small of her back.

Killian deepened the kiss, tugging gently at her hair until her head was tilted back. She clawed at his shoulders and then her hands were everywhere, combing through his hair, running down his chest, inside his leather jacket and flattening against his stomach.

Then she slowed the kiss, her hands withdrawing completely from him, and when she pulled away, Killian chased her lips, wanting to stay in the haze of happiness that came from being surrounded by Emma.

"That was…" he breathed, his eyes roaming over Emma's flushed cheeks. She swallowed, rubbed her eyes and then ran her hands over his jacket, smoothing it down.

"That was a goodbye."

She kissed him again, a brief brush of her lips over his, and then she turned and began to climb down the beanstalk. Killian watched until she was out of sight, and then he retreated to the alcove they had hidden in upon arrival.

All he had to do now was wait.

~~~*~~~

The few hours he had spent hiding in the alcove had left his entire body stiff, but he was thankful that it did at least seem as though the realm of giants was a bit too high for the wraith to access. He thought he could hear the very distant cries of the stolen souls, although he wasn't entirely sure if the sound was there or if he was just expecting it to be.

Either way, he couldn't wait any longer, not with the giant bound to be waking up soon and Cora probably waiting at the bottom of the beanstalk.

The climb down was exhausting, each carefully-judged step causing his arms to ache and his shoulder to throb, although the distance between him and the ground was enough motivation to keep his grip steady.

He hadn't thought that he could be grateful to Rumplestiltskin for injuring his already crippled arm, but he dreaded to think what things would have been like if it had been his full arm that he now struggled to move.

As soon as he could jump down safely, he pushed off the beanstalk, his knees jarring slightly when he landed on the ground. He took a moment to breathe in, closing his eyes and enjoying the cool breeze and light rain against his face, relieved that it seemed to be nearing dawn and that he'd managed to avoid the wraith for another night.

"My dear Captain." He started at the noise, turning quickly to see Cora standing before him, a parasol guarding her from the mist of rain. "Have you had quite an adventure?"

"Indeed." He answered, rolling his shoulder and grimacing at the strange grinding sensation he felt at the movement. "It's quite an experience, to see a giant."

"The compass?"

"Impatient, are we?" He asked, ignoring Cora's scoff. "Don't worry, I…"

He trailed off, scowling when he reached into his jacket and found nothing. He hadn't touched the compass after securing it, but it was definitely gone. For a second, he panicked, glancing up at Cora with wide eyes and a strained smile, unsure what would happen to him once she found it.

"Yes?"

He swallowed and composed himself, forcing a cold, unaffected smirk across his lips before meeting her gaze. He knew exactly what had happened. Emma's kiss had been more than a goodbye. It had been one final display of distrust before leaving him behind, her hands roaming not because she wanted him, but because she wanted the one thing she knew could get her home.

He allowed himself a brief moment to wonder if Emma had even considered the consequences of what she had done, an unfamiliar anger filling him at the realisation that all his reassurances had truly meant nothing.

"Unfortunately, your Majesty, it appears the Swan girl has bested me."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

His announcement seemed to amuse Cora more than Killian had expected. She looked at his empty hand for only a moment, and then shook her head. "Now, Captain,. I don't have time for your games. Don't tell me you  _told_ her what we wanted?" She said smoothly, her grin quickly turning vicious. "Could you not reach it alone? You truly aren't the pirate I met so long ago."

Killian could only gape at the witch, his mind racing for explanations and excuses he could use to escape the situation. "I… I needed their help to reach the beanstalk without the wraith taking my soul and she was hardly going to help me without a reason to do so."

His words were clumsy, something that caused Cora to laugh as she stepped closer. "And now she has the compass. Don't try to explain any further, Hook. You chose her and you're going to have live with the consequences of that decision."

He raised his head in surprise, unable to hide his confusion at her words. "Live with?" He repeated. "Why, Cora, it seems like you're not the Queen that I met so long ago either."

"Unlike you, I've hardly changed. You know, at least before, you were slightly unpredictable." She stated. "This time, I knew all along that you'd betray me, although I was hoping you'd be more useful before that happened. Did you truly believe I didn't know what you felt for Emma Swan. You smile whenever she's near you, whenever she's mentioned. Before, the love that you had lost made you interesting. A tool that I could use, albeit an unreliable one. Now, you're just  _weak._ "

He swallowed but didn't protest, the witch's words ringing true. Emma had taken advantage of his feelings for her own selfish reasons and then abandoned him, and in that moment, the fury filling him left him missing the simplicity of his life before he met Emma. It had almost been a comfort to have only the single aim of revenge on the Dark One. It had been far easier than thinking about the tangle of raw emotions Emma had left him with.

"There's no need to be rash." He said instead. "I want to get back to Storybrooke. I want to _kill_  the Crocodile. That hasn't changed. In fact, Emma leaving me here empty-handed, well, that's enough motivation to truly work at your side. I can get the compass back and she will not fool me again with any ... pretty words. You  _need_ me."

"Your pretty face might work on others, but not on me." She told him, waving her hand dismissively. "You had your chance. You failed. So I'm going to leave you in this realm, stuck with knowledge that I got to your Storybrooke and Emma, well, she won't have the compass much longer. Not when I send my army to get it."

Killian swallowed, his mind bringing back unwelcome images of the hordes of heartless people left behind at what should have been a Safe Haven, and picturing the chaos that would occur when they ambushed Emma and the others.

"I suppose this is farewell then, Hook." She said eventually, an irritatingly smug smile settling across her face when he didn't react to her previous words. "I admit that I have to wonder how you would have acted if you knew that the saviour didn't return your feelings. Were a few trysts with her really worth all this? Either way, I'm sure that outcome would have been less enjoyable for me."

He didn't even think about his response, raising his arm to attack Cora as though that would stop her, but the instant his hook came swinging down towards the witch, she vanished and he fell forward, crashing to the ground.

For a few moments, he didn't bother to get up. His arm ached painfully, but that was nothing compared to the disarray of thoughts running through his mind. He was disappointed that even after everything, Emma didn't trust him, but maybe he could have dealt with such a painful truth if she hadn't revealed it so cruelly.

Once he was back on his feet, he didn't know what to do. If he wanted to return to Storybrooke, then only Cora could help him. As capable as both Emma and David were, he didn't feel prepared to spend any time with Emma. He wasn't even certain that she'd want him to return to Storybrooke with them, if she even knew how to get back.

It was better he returned alone.

He walked towards Lake Nostos, deciding that it would be easier when travelling alone to hijack Cora's portal. After all, Emma clearly didn't want him travelling with her, would rather have him  _dead_ than at her side. It would serve her right if he left the realm without her.

It only took a few hundred yards before he reconsidered. He thought of Emma first, and although he thought he should be angrier, the more time he had to think, the more his fury faded into just disappointment.

He understood her, he always had, and he believed that hadn't changed, although leaving him without the compass was one move that he couldn't have anticipated. Emma had told him enough about her past, as well as made it clear that she believed everyone left, so he could see why she had tried to run away, but she hadn't just  _run_. She'd taken the compass and left, with full knowledge that he'd be liaising with Cora. Even with Emma's consistent denial, if she felt anything close to what he felt for her, he couldn't see how it was possible for her to have left him behind.

A brief surge of anger went through him at the thought and he kicked out towards a stray tree root, cursing when he made contact with it.

He had been such a fool. He should have realised long before this that it was hopeless, that finding her again after seeing her only once in a tavern so many years before didn't mean anything, not even with how unexplainable that meeting had been. Whatever she did feel for him, it wasn't what he wished she felt.

Either way, he couldn't walk away from her. There were more people involved in what had happened than just the two of them, and if Cora's taunts were true, he couldn't let his bitterness at what had occurred stop him from warning the others.

David was his friend, as was Mary-Margaret and even Henry. If he didn't warn them, neither Emma nor David would return home, and that would hurt their family more than Killian could allow. If he could help, Killian was going to do whatever it took to help them.

As long as he could find them.

~~~*~~~

It was only hours before he found the others, the group having inexplicably stopped travelling in order to have a rest. Phillip was curled around Aurora, the two of them sleeping despite the bright light of the morning sun, and on the other side of the clearing, Mulan and David were practicing their sword fighting, sharing David's blade as Mulan's was still strapped to Killian's belt.

Killian only spared a second to glance at them, his gaze drawn to Emma. She was sat away from the others, her back against one of the trees lining the clearing, her face clearly stained with dried tears, and as much as he thought that he should feel otherwise, his anger faded when he saw that she was running her fingers over the face of the compass.

He stepped out from where he was hidden from their view, refusing to cross the distance between him and Emma. "You took the compass."

Emma's head rose, her eyes snapping up to catch his and a sharp gasp falling from her lips. She blinked several times, clearly unable to believe he was even standing there, and then she seemed to compose herself, her jaw tensing and her stare leaving his. "Can you name a film we've watched together?"

Her voice shook, but when he frowned at her, she repeated the question, and this time, her words were stronger.

"Superman." He answered, and Emma took in another loud, shaky breath. "Also Time Bandits one time, although I don't remember you paying much attention to that."

Emma sobbed, clutching the compass so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Killian noticed, out of the corner of his eye, David turning towards them, but Emma shook her head and he returned his attention to Mulan.

"We should talk." She muttered, clambering to her feet and gesturing away from the makeshift campsite. "Alone?"

He tilted his head, hesitating for a moment, and Emma's eyes widened, her lips trembling, and when he finally turned to walk away, he heard her stumble after him. He sped up, feeling a bitter satisfaction that she was struggling to keep up, his anger still heating his veins despite her clear anguish over what had happened.

When he finally stopped walking, the sound of David and Mulan's fighting only a distant clanging, he expected Emma to stop and explain. He turned, preparing himself to cross his arms and stare at Emma until she gave him some sort of explanation that wasn't simply that she was  _scared_ or didn't trust him.

There had to have been more on her mind when she left him to die.

She didn't offer anything. Instead, she kept moving, walking towards him until they collided. He reached to steady her automatically, Emma's own hands gripping at his jacket.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, repeating the phrase over and over until it was almost incomprehensible.

He tensed his jaw, refusing to let her words soften any of his feelings. "You left me to die." He bit out, his hands dropping to his sides so that he wasn't returning Emma's desperate hold on him. "Do you think sorry is enough?"

Her fingers loosened, and then she shuffled away from him. "I… I guess not." She whispered, tangling her fingers together and fidgeting when his glare hardened. "I wouldn't… a sorry wouldn't be enough from Neal. Not for me. I don't know why I hoped that it would be different for you."

"You took the compass and you left me for  _Cora_ to find." He snarled, not even blinking when Emma flinched away from him at his words. "I  _knew_ you didn't trust me, but I didn't think you would do  _anything_ like that. If you felt anything even  _close_ to how I feel, I don't see how you could have walked away like you did."

"I didn't…" She protested, stepping back towards him and clenching her fists, her voice rising. "Look, I panicked, okay? Cora didn't even come to mind. I just thought that once you found a way home, you would leave me."

"Leave you?" He repeated, barking out an angry laugh and matching the volume of his voice to hers. "Why would I leave you? Storybrooke wouldn't even  _be_ a home without you there! Not since I found you."

Her breath caught, another sob escaping her when she first tried to speak. "You left first." She bit out. "You had  _already_ left. Don't try and act as though I had no reason to think you were just waiting to leave me! And yeah, you're right. I  _don't_ trust you. How can I? I don't even know you anymore."

Killian shook his head angrily, frustrated by her words. She was  _so_ stubborn, and although sometimes he found it endearing, at that moment, he just found it infuriating. "That's crazy." He snapped. "You  _do_ know me. You just refuse to let yourself see that I haven't changed. How can you even think I don't still lo-"

"I made a  _mistake_." She cried, interrupting him before their argument led to him saying something he knew she wasn't ready to hear. "I didn't think it through and I'm  _sorry_. I thought I'd killed you and I… I can't lose you. I had thought that maybe, if I left you first, it would hurt less than waiting for you to leave me. Except as soon as I was gone, as soon as I realised what I'd done, I knew that even losing you on my terms hurt too much."

Killian swallowed. He had wanted an explanation, he  _still_ wanted one, but it felt like her words had drained away most of his anger and left him simply stunned. "You can't  _lose_ me?" Emma took in a few depths and then nodded in confirmation. "Emma… Perhaps you won't believe me, but I was just trying to save you. I would have  _always_ come back to you."

She bit her lip, glancing away for only a moment before stepping up to him, her hand snaking around his neck and pulling him down to her. The kiss was different than the one she'd used as a distraction at the top of the beanstalk, the hand at his neck sliding up into his hair, the other gently against his cheek.

It wasn't a distraction, it wasn't anything other than  _them_ being together, and when Emma ended the kiss and didn't move away, her nose brushing against his and her breath warm against his lips. He closed his eyes, only for a moment, enchanted by the way she was pressed to him, her thumb brushing his cheek lightly.

He should be angrier, he knew that, but her clear regret had driven that away. However, he couldn't trust her, not after she'd used his feelings the way she had. Of course, he  _wanted_ to trust her, still wanted so much more than he thought she could cope with, but her words and her kiss weren't enough to brush the betrayal aside.

"Swan." He said, taking hold of her arm and gently pushing her away from him. "I understand why you ran. I can read you well enough to know that you're scared that letting me in means that I can hurt you. You've been hurt before and you don't want that to happen again. I understand.  _That_ , I can forgive. But you used how  _I_ felt to run. You knew that I trusted you, that I… cared for you, and chose to use that knowledge to distract me. It's going to take some time before I can accept what you did, and as for understanding why you were willing to do that to me, I don't think I can."

He started to walk past her, back to the others, but then he felt her hand take his, her grip firm as though she was trying to hold him in place. When he looked back at her, she was crying.

"Look, Killian, everything has changed and it was… easier to think that you were different instead of hoping that you weren't." She muttered, her expression pleading for him to stay with her and  _listen_. "I know I was… selfish, and I know I shouldn't have left you, especially the way I did, by fooling you, but before you decide that whatever this is is actually finished, I just want you to know that…"

She took in a deep breath. Killian thought, for a moment, that she wouldn't say whatever she seemed to think would change something. He opened his mouth to reassure her that, although he needed time, he doubted that what they shared would ever be over, but that seemed to hurry her into continuing.

"You being Captain Hook. I don't care about that." She breathed. "I mean… you  _haven't_ changed. I know that. I always did, somewhere. And I'd understand if things are different now because of what I've done, but if there's any part of you that still cares, you should know that I don't want to run away from you anymore. Everything else is  _so_ crazy and… well, it turns out that I think that I need you. And I hate that, but it doesn't mean it isn't true."

Whatever he had expected her to say, that wasn't it. She was saying things he'd wanted to hear for years, and suddenly, the betrayal didn't seem as insurmountable anymore. It was still there, still on his mind, but it wasn't enough for him to walk away from her. Not if she truly needed him.

Killian kissed her, harder and more punishing than her kiss had been, but she met his every move, clinging tighter whenever Killian attempted to pull her closer. At some point, he'd backed her into a tree, although he hadn't been aware of anything except Emma's lips on his when he'd done so, and when he realised this, he pressed even closer. She whimpered when he left her lips to suck a path of kisses from her jaw, down her neck, his hand rising to tug her shirt neckline lower when it got in the way.

"I  _am_  sorry, you know." Emma said suddenly, her voice so breathy it was almost inaudible. "Really."

He paused only to glance up at her, suddenly captivated when he saw the way her head was thrown back, eyes closed, neck marked by his kisses and her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. She was so beautiful that he couldn't look away.

"Killian?" She whispered, peering up at him through her eyelashes. "Don't stop?"

He chuckled and obeyed, brushing his lips over hers as he rocked his hips lightly and grinning against her lips at her sharp gasp in response.

"Why?" He asked, biting gently at her lip. "Haven't managed to steal what you need yet? I don't think I have anything valuable left on me."

Emma pushed him back, scowling at him and although there  _was_ bitterness behind his words, he plastered a teasing smirk across his lips and raised one eyebrow and that seemed to be enough to make Emma relax.

"You remember at the station? When I kissed you?" She asked tentatively, her fingers toying with the chains of his necklace until he grabbed her hand and stopped her. He suddenly found that he didn't want her to know about the bean that was hanging off one of the chains, even if it clearly no longer worked.

He realised she'd asked him a question only after she raised an expectant eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"When you said we should get dinner sometime?" She prompted. "You know, together. We should do that. When we're home. I mean… if you still want to try that.  _Us_. Or was that some sort of goodbye make out?"

He swallowed, hearing her voice hitch on the word 'goodbye', and thinking only of how she'd left him with exactly what she'd just described. "Swan, what you did isn't just going to go away." He said, and she pushed him further away, a broken expression crossing her face at his words. "But I'm never going to say goodbye to you."

"Me too." She whispered, a smile dancing across her lips when his eyes widened and he gaped at her in astonishment. "Not again."

He let himself believe that that time, when she kissed him, her kiss felt like a promise.

~~~*~~~

The two of them only returned to the clearing when they heard David calling for them. They hadn't talked any further since their argument had turned into kisses. Killian hadn't had too much to say to Emma, not wanting them to retreat back to harsh words, so he'd prevented any silences from falling by making sure that they were entirely occupied by one another.

It was easy to pretend that attraction and love was enough, but when they couldn't distract each other anymore, Killian doubted he'd be able to stop himself from thinking about the total lack of trust between them.

Emma had seemed willing to ignore David's summons, if she had even heard it, but Killian seemed unable to be similarly sidetracked, not even by Emma's soft lips and wandering hands. He'd broken their embrace instantly, nudging her hands aside and then straightening his slightly askew clothes before walking away from her.

When David saw that he was the only one returning the clearing, the man crossed his arms and gave him a cold look. "What? Did you decide sticking with us was a better plan after all?" He asked, one eyebrow raised. "Where's my daughter?"

Killian scowled, thrown by David's harsh tone. "She's coming. As for your bad mood, I'm not entirely sure what triggered that so there's no need to take it out on me."

"Not entirely sure?" David repeated, spluttering in surprise at the same moment Killian felt Emma's hand slide into his, their fingers lacing together. "You… wait, what? Emma, I thought you said he left you?"

Killian turned to look at the woman at his side, quickly forcing away another burst of disappointment. "I left to climb the beanstalk, Dave, but I never left for good."

"I  _know_ you went to climb the beanstalk." David muttered with a roll of his eyes. "But I was told that Emma returned alone because you had walked away. She wasn't happy about that and I thought you'd done something. Didn't you?"

"She lied." Killian snapped, tugging his hand out of Emma's grip. "You might find the truth to be slightly different."

Emma seemed to think that affection was the way to apologise, because she wrapped her arm around his and curled against his side, her forehead pressed against his shoulder. David scowled at them, blinked, and then seemed to remember that he hadn't called them back just to look disapproving.

"Anyway, Aurora's woken up." He said, gesturing behind him to the young princess, who was surrounded by Phillip and Mulan. "She had some stuff to say that I thought you'd want to hear."

Emma nodded, kissed Killian briefly on the cheek and wandered over towards the group. Killian watched her walk away until David stepped in front of him and blocked his view. "What is it, mate?"

"I want an explanation." David stated, folding his arms across his chest and fixing him with a stern glare. "I don't think I'm going to get anything out of Emma, She clearly wasn't telling the truth about where you were, but whatever happened made her cry and if  _you_ made my daughter cry…. well, I'll do something. I just haven't thought of it yet."

Killian swallowed. He'd known that Emma had regretted leaving him behind, but it was different hearing it from David. "We got separated." He explained briefly, unable to tell David the truth despite his expectant look. Not only did he not want to say the truth out loud, but whatever image David had of his daughter, Killian didn't want to be the person to change it.

He doubted David would ever leave anyone behind.

"Perhaps Emma jumped to conclusions when we didn't immediately find one another again." He said slowly. "I meant to stay behind in order to find out more from Cora. Maybe I didn't make that plan clear, but I always intended to return to her."

David narrowed his eyes, tilted his head back and then, after a minute of Killian feeling very judged, he nodded. "Okay. Fine. Just don't let that misunderstanding happen again. I don't like her being that upset, and I'd bet that you don't either."

Killian shrugged, unable to meet David's eyes for a moment. In his attempt to avoid his gaze, he caught sight of the others talking quietly. "So, why is it so important that Aurora's awake?"

"Because when she sleeps, she talks to Henry."

"I'm sorry?"

"After Snow woke from her sleeping curse, all her dreams were spent in a burning room. The same goes for Aurora. And for Henry. It turns out, they're dreaming of the same place and when they're both asleep, they're both there."

"They can communicate?"

"Well, I guess we can't be certain that they're  _actually_ talking. But Aurora told us about Henry, not the other way around. How could she have known him otherwise?" David pointed out. "We're hoping that Henry can tell us what's been going on back home, and that Aurora can tell him that we're trying to get back."

Emma rejoined them before Killian could ask any further questions, her arm sliding around his waist as soon as she was at his side. "Storybrooke sounds… as weird as this place." She told them. "Apparently, Dr Whale lost and then regained an arm, Mary-Margaret shot someone called Daniel with an  _arrow_  and Regina's still locked up in the Sheriff station."

That brief summary of whatever crazy events were happening in Storybrooke only raised more questions than answers. "Aurora didn't mention if Henry had said anything about Lacey?" Killian asked, speaking before David had the chance to voice any of the questions he clearly had. "If she's alright?"

"Aurora didn't say anything." Emma muttered apologetically. "But she did tell Henry that, with Cora's portal, we'll be home soon. She said that he seemed excited. That he can't wait to see me again."

"Cora's portal?" Killian repeated, stiffening at her words and nudging her away from him. "Swan, how can you possibly believe that we can use Cora's plan to return home? She is the  _only_ one who can open the portal, and without the compass, she won't open it. With any of us nearby, she  _definitely_ won't open it. The plan that I had to get you back to your son isn't possible anymore, and you know  _exactly_  why that is."

Emma swallowed, and he felt a twinge of guilt when she hunched her shoulders and crossed her arms across her chest. "I've apologised." She mumbled, glancing nervously towards her father. "And can we really not get home now?"

Killian shrugged. "Not as soon as you wanted." He told her. "That is, if we even survive the army of corpses that she's sending after you and the compass you  _stole_ from me."

"The army? You didn't think to bring this up sooner?" She asked, exchanging a horrified glance with her father. "What? Did you think we didn't need to know?"

"I was preoccupied." He snapped back. "You seemed rather happy to keep me from talking."

"No." David said loudly. "No. I don't want to hear anymore about you being… preoccupied. I want to know about this corpse army. Nothing else."

"Cora told me once that if you hold a heart in your hand, you can control it." Killian started. "She took the hearts of every single corpse in the haven, and even dead, she can make them do what she needs them to."

"It's going to be hard to defeat an army of people that are already dead." David muttered, his fingers dancing over the hilt of his sword. "But that doesn't mean we don't fight. We're going to defeat Cora's army, or at least delay them, and we are going to find a way to be there when Cora opens up the portal. After what Aurora said, I'm not spending more time away from my wife and my grandson than I have to."

~~~*~~~

Once everyone was aware that the corpses were most likely shambling through the forest towards them, they'd packed up their few belongings and continued walking through the trees. David insisted that he knew the way to Lake Nostos, so he was leading them, his sword at the ready.

The only plan they had been able to think of was to hope that if they confronted Cora near the lake, she might open the portal in an attempt to get away and they would be able to follow her through.

Killian doubted it would work.

As they walked, Killian kept to himself. Emma had tried to walk alongside him, her hand in his, but his silence had driven her away eventually. He was glad that she seemed willing to admit that she felt  _something_ for him, but he didn't feel like spending his time in casual discussion with her.

He hadn't really let himself wonder about what would happen when they returned to Storybrooke. At first, it had been because he didn't want to dwell on the possibility that Emma would decide that, knowing he was Captain Hook, she didn't want to be with him.

It was different now. He'd agreed to be with Emma, he still  _wanted_ to be with Emma, but things didn't feel the same anymore.

No matter what he felt, he couldn't stop thinking about a way to return to Storybrooke. David's idea relied on brute strength and luck. David's words about returning to Snow and Henry, as well as Aurora's few words about the status of Storybrooke had reminded him that, although he had let himself be distracted by getting Emma home, and then her betrayal, there were other reasons to return to the town he had spent the last thirty years living in.

The corpses weren't quiet when they attacked, bounding clumsily through the trees but moving quickly enough so that the group got barely any warning. Killian was jolted back to attention when he heard a gunshot from Emma's direction, hurrying away from the attack with Aurora, his hook ready to attack if any of the bodies managed to fight past the armed members of the group.

Emma's shots seemed to only delay the corpses, sending them staggering a few paces back before they returned to shuffling forwards, but David, Mulan and Phillip were able to prevent the group from being overwhelmed. David's attacks were powerful, even if they weren't particularly graceful, but it was Mulan that was most effective at destroying the attackers.

With her sword in hand, she ducked and weaved between the slow-moving bodies, her style graceful as her sword flashed out quickly to knock back an attack. Phillip had clearly fought with her before, his own precise strikes working perfectly alongside the fluidity of Mulan's.

Mulan discovered very quickly that although nothing was enough to stop the army from determinedly attacking, they were much less dangerous with fewer limbs.

Once they'd hindered the army enough, the six of them continued moving, walking with swords still drawn in case there were any attackers they hadn't yet debilitated. Cora wouldn't stop attacking them until the compass was in her hand or she had no more hearts, although Killian was well aware that she could always gain more.

A live enemy would be harder to fight than the clumsy, mindless bodies that she had already sent after them.

Then, suddenly, he knew just what to do.

"Stop." He ordered, repeating the word a few times until the others listened. "I have an idea. I know how we can get back to Storybrooke."

"Another idea?" David asked, exchanging a curious look with his daughter. "If you knew of another way to get back, why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"I don't know another way to get home." Killian corrected, holding his hand up to halt the questions he knew were coming. "But I do know a way to trick Cora one final time."

"And what would that be?" Mulan questioned, folding her arms and raising her eyebrow. "So far your so-called plans haven't worked out well for us. Why should we expect this one to be any different?"

Mulan looked doubtful, but David seemed willing to listen, as did Emma. "Everything I said before still applies. Cora won't open the portal without the compass and she won't open the portal with anyone there that she doesn't trust. So what if we use that?"

"Go along with Cora's plan?" Emma already had the compass out of her pocket, her thumb running over the glass face, but she seemed confused by what he had said. "How does that do anything but help  _her_ get to Storybrooke?"

"There's only one thing Cora truly trusts and that's power." He explained. "What if we give her a heart, one of  _our_ hearts, and let her use it to make us bring the compass to her? If she thinks we're powerless, and if she's in possession of the compass, there's a chance she'll open the portal when we're nearby. We take the heart back, Phillip, Aurora and Mulan obstruct her path to the portal and then we jump through. We'll be back in Storybrooke, and Cora won't have a way to follow us."

"Sounds wonderful." Mulan said before anyone else could contribute. "Except for the whole heart part of the plan. And the fact that you'll be leaving the three of us to keep Cora at bay. What are we supposed to do when the portal closes? Run away? Or just let her kill us?"

" _I_ can take a heart." Killian snapped. "She doesn't need to truly have possession of it. Not if I use it to bring you and the compass to her. Do you think I'd let anyone lend their heart to this plan unless I could promise it's return?"

"After you left all of us, and stole  _my_ sword, do you think any of us trust you to take our heart?" Mulan laughed. "You're a  _pirate_. Why should we let anyone give their heart to you? If you think this plan will work, give her  _your_ heart."

"No." Emma protested, moving to Killian's side and then sending Mulan a stern glare. "I trust him. If he believes this plan will work, then it's the best plan we have. And we do it."

Mulan exchanged a look with Phillip, the two of them having a silent conversation that ended with Mulan nodding begrudgingly. "We'll help. But if it doesn't work, then it's up to you after that. We won't risk our lives again. And none of us are giving the pirate our hearts."

"Thank you." Emma muttered, and Killian watched her grip the compass tightly, her knuckles white. "And as for the heart, well, I have the compass so it should be my heart. I trust Killian with it."

Killian's heart raced at her words, even though he knew that she hardly meant what he wished she did. "Swan? Are you-"

"Cora won't get Emma's heart." David had interrupted Killian, snatching the compass out of Emma's hand as he joined the discussion, ignoring Emma's protests at his actions. "We can't predict what Cora will do. If she takes the heart from you, then all she has to do is crush it and one of us is gone. I can't let it be Emma's heart."

"Well, it's not up to you." Emma told him. "No one else is volunteering. We need a heart and we need to get home. Giving my heart to Killian is… well, I know he'll keep it safe."

Even Emma seemed astonished by her words, her cheeks reddening slightly, but that didn't stop her from leaning over to brush her lips to his, as though emphasising her declaration. Killian couldn't even breathe, and for a moment, it was as though he'd forgotten everything other than the love he felt for her.

"Oh, and Aurora?" Emma said, sounding breathless once Killian had stepped close and rested his hook over her heart. "Could you go to sleep? It would be great if you could tell Henry that his mom's coming home."

Killian assumed Aurora had agreed, but he couldn't look away from Emma. She wasn't looking back at him, seemingly unable to meet his gaze, but her hands were steady and her breath was growing calmer, and although it seemed an impossible thought, he truly believed she trusted him to take her heart in his hands and keep it safe.

He didn't want to take it.

"There's another option." Killian sighed in relief at the sudden input, twisting to stare at David. "You take my heart."

"David!" Emma protested immediately. "We've discussed this. It's not up to you."

"No, it's not. Offer your heart to Hook all you want. I can't stop you from doing that." David agreed. He looked away from Emma then, to Killian, and a determined expression settled across his face. "But I want to keep you safe. I'd rather risk my heart than risk you."

It may have been hard for Emma to understand but Killian felt incredibly grateful to David in that moment. The choice was easy.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me! I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 30**

Emma seemed surprised when Killian turned away from her, but he didn't know how she could have expected him to choose to do anything other than protect her. He didn't give her a chance to protest, his hook sliding easily into David's chest before she could say another word. The man gasped with each tug at his heart, but despite Killian's inexperience and dislike of the magic he was using, it didn't take long to pull the heart from David's chest.

"I know you said you could take someone's heart…" Emma breathed, stepping closer so that she could gape in horror at the beating organ in his hand. "But how the hell did you do that? I didn't really realise what you meant until I saw, well, whatever that was."

"Magic can take hearts." David said with a shrug, rubbing his hand over his chest as if it hurt. "I knew Cora could do it. Regina too. I'd never heard of Captain Hook having the same skill though."

Killian opened his mouth to explain, but Emma spoke before he could. "So when you said Rumplestiltskin tore out Milah's heart and that Regina did the same to Graham, you meant like  _that_." She stated, her gaze still locked on the heart. "I pictured something more gruesome."

"It may not be bloody, but trust me, watching someone gasp for breath as their heart disintegrates is hardly pleasant." He snapped.

"I'm sorry." Emma muttered, raising her head to look at him in surprise. "I didn't… I know. I've seen it."

It wasn't the time for this discussion. Not with David glancing between the two of them and Mulan hovering defensively nearby. "Yes. I suppose you have. As for having that 'skill', Dave, that was a one-off occurrence. My hook was enchanted, decades ago now, to remove one heart."

That explanation seemed to only raise more questions, but he didn't give anyone a chance to ask anything. Instead, he carefully stored the heart in his pocket, gave Dave a nod in farewell and started to stride away.

"Wait." Emma called. It appeared she had followed him, her hand grasping his arm and pulling him to a halt. "I'm getting pretty sick of you just walking away."

"You know where I'm going. You know the plan, don't you?" He asked, turning to face her and smiling slightly when her hand slid down his arm so her fingers could lace with his. "I'll order David to bring the compass to me and Cora. When he starts insisting on travelling to Lake Nostos, you must go with him. At the lake, you should hide from Cora until the portal is open. As soon as it's open, we can go. We don't need the compass to get back."

Emma laughed quietly. "Yeah, I know the plan. I didn't need it spelled out like that." She murmured, glancing over her shoulder to David and the others. "I just thought I should say goodbye. I mean, just for now. Not like last time. I mean, I  _have_ to believe that I'm going to see you again. You  _do_ think Cora will believe you, don't you?"

"There's a few things I can say to persuade her." He said with a shrug. He hadn't thought of what he'd say yet, the plan only occurring to him after the corpses attacked, but he  _knew_ Cora. At least, he knew her well enough to know what to say that might convince her. "I'm sure the heart will be enticing enough for her to at least listen."

Emma wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Yeah, so… maybe I shouldn't have brought up Milah in front of everyone else. What Rumplestiltskin did to her, well, I know it's not something you like to remember."

He shrugged, preferring not to say anything in response.

"Okay." Emma mumbled, shifting her weight from side to side and swallowing nervously. Perhaps he should have said something, but things felt too strange for him to be talking of something so painful. "I can see you don't really want to talk to me. I get it. It makes sense." He pressed his lips together, not wanting to lie to her. Emma cursed and dropped his hand. "Yeah, a few kisses aren't going to totally fix things. Sorry."

She looked so sad for a minute, before she forced a nonchalant expression across her face. "I told you that." He reminded her. "But I also told you no more goodbyes so yes, you will see me again. I promise."

He stepped close, bent his head and kissed her.

She clutched at his collar and held him to her, his own hand rising to cup her cheek. He wondered, hazily, if she was as aware as he was that despite their promises, he couldn't guarantee that this wasn't their final kiss. Cora was dangerous and she had the power to change everything. She could kill Killian or, more likely, David, and that wasn't even considering what might happen when they confronted her.

The thoughts weren't pleasant, so he let himself get fully distracted by the kiss, allowing Emma to take over his senses. There was something  _new_ about their kisses since the argument, perhaps because Emma appeared to have accepted that she felt something for him. It was slow, deep, and despite knowing that they had an audience, he allowed himself to move his hand, sliding it underneath her shirt to settle against the warm skin at the base of her back.

Emma tilted her head and tugged him even closer, opening her mouth to him, and it was that response that seemed to be the last straw for David, loud protests audible from behind them.

They parted, a breathy laugh falling from Emma's lips. "I really hope this plan works." She murmured, busying herself with straightening out his collar instead of looking at him. "I need to get back to Storybrooke. I mean, I miss Henry more than anything but, you know, I miss your cabin too. It was nice and…  _private_."

He chuckled, her words unexpected, and in that moment, it felt as though his concerns could be pushed aside. Things were easier when they were close, when the image of her there with him could block out the memory of her leaving him behind, how she'd told David a false story. With her standing nearby, and the taste of her on his lips, he could just love her.

"Well, you've just given me even more of an incentive to get you home." He muttered, gently taking hold of her hands and pushing her away. "So I  _need_ to go."

"Yeah." She agreed. "But I'll see you later?"

He nodded, and then after she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, he left Emma and her father behind, David's heart stored in his pocket.

~~~*~~~

It wasn't too far to Lake Nostos, the sun only just starting to move past the center of the sky when Killian arrived there. Cora was already there, standing in the centre of the dried-up lake and tapping her fingers impatiently against the glass bottle of ashes.

If he hadn't known better, he would have thought she was waiting for him, but Killian thought it was much more likely that she was waiting for one of the reanimated corpses to return with the compass.

"I have to admit, Cora, I thought that lakes had water." He said, raising an eyebrow when she didn't even seem surprised by his appearance. "It appears I was mistaken."

"And I thought that you had enough self-preservation not to bother me with your presence again." She drawled, storing the ashes in a pouch at her waist. "Clearly I was mistaken too."

Killian shook his head, smirking at the woman as he cross the distance between them and took a place at her side. "I want to get home, Cora. You're the only one who can get me there."

"Can we dispense with the lies, Captain?" She asked, reaching out to once again rest her hand against his heart. He tried to stay calm, but Cora's cruel laugh at his racing heartbeat was proof he'd failed. "What do you  _really_ want?"

Killian swallowed, composed himself and then used his hook to nudge Cora's hand away. "I told you. To get home."

"Without your darling Emma?" Cora taunted. "I don't believe you."

"I love Emma." He admitted, the words feeling unfamiliar on his tongue. They were true, but he had hardly imagined that he would speak them out loud for the first time to Cora, and he definitely hadn't imagined saying them to anyone anytime soon. "I'm not going to insult you by lying about that. The truth, Cora, is that I allowed those feelings to dictate what I did, foolishly hoping that she felt the same way. I should have realised that people like us don't get happy endings like that. This morning, I told you that Emma had bested me. I lied. She knowingly left me to die."

Cora laughed again, clearly amused at his misplaced trust in Emma. "So that's the truth." She stated, and although Killian hadn't been entirely honest, there'd been more truth to his statement than he would have liked. "It still doesn't explain why you're fool enough to return to  _me_."

"I know I value love more than you think is wise, but I value my own life more." He lied. "I brought you… well, I wouldn't call it a gift. An opportunity, perhaps. Something that might make you more willing to allow me to accompany you."

"What?"

He smirked, enjoying the interest on the witch's face, and then he carefully lifted the beating heart out of his jacket pocket. Cora's eyes widened, a hungry gleam in her eyes as she reached her hand towards it. He didn't let her touch David's heart, his hand moving quickly out of her reach. "It's  _not_ a gift, remember?"

"Oh, please." Cora huffed, shaking her head angrily. "You don't understand the power that holding a heart gives you. You may have taken that, but you don't know how to use it. In your hands, it's useless."

"Useless?" He repeated. "I know exactly what sort of power you have with a heart in your hand. I've  _seen_ it, and perhaps I haven't experienced such control myself, trust me when I say that I remember  _vividly_ what it's like to watch someone wince with just a single squeeze."

His voice had lowered to an angry snarl, and he had to concentrate on not clenching his hand in anger and accidentally hurting David. Cora seemed amused, but, as had happened before, his fury seemed to have actually endeared him to her.

"Whose heart is it?" She asked.

"David Nolan's." He told her, making sure to force a smirk across his face. "Snow White's prince. He's with Emma and  _he_ can bring you the compass. Of course, that's only if you agree to take me with you. Otherwise, well, your own attempts at stealing the compass back appear to have been fruitless. They  _can_ fight, you know."

"Or I could kill you and take the heart?" Cora suggested, her fingers flexing menacingly. "That way, I can travel alone and, when I reunite with my daughter, I'm sure Regina will love to hear about the misery I'll have caused Snow White."

"Except you don't know David." He hissed, unable to hide his anger at what she had just proposed. "If he's not himself, they'll know. And they'll be able to stop him.  _I_ know him. I've spent time with him, cursed and uncursed, and they will believe  _me_."

Cora's lip curled and her stare darkened, and for a moment, Killian believed he hadn't managed to convince her. He didn't want to think about what that would mean, although he was certain that neither David nor himself would have long left. Emma would be alone, trapped in a separate realm from her family just as she had been before, and he couldn't imagine that she'd manage to find a way back to them.

He readied his hook, making sure the movement was subtle enough to remain unnoticed, and waited for a response other than fury.

"Order him here  _now_." She snapped. "I want to see you commanding him here and I want you to listen to every word they say, and if necessary, intercede."

Killian didn't entirely relax, but he let his hook return to his side before he carefully brought the heart up near his lips. "David Nolan, I order you to bring me the compass."

He raised an eyebrow at Cora, challenging her to tell him he'd done it wrong, but despite her obvious irritation at the new situation, it didn't appear that he'd made a mistake. If he'd done it right, and it looked like he had, David would already be trying to bring them the compass and Emma would know to follow.

Even if Cora killed him once the compass was in her hands, hopefully Emma would be close enough to follow her back to Storybrooke.

They waited in silence for what felt like several hours, Killian nudging rocks with his toes in a vain attempt to amuse himself. However, he supposed that the longer it took them to arrive, the less likely it would seem that they had arranged to meet here.

"Why here?" Killian asked eventually, once it was nearing evening and he was sick of the quiet. "What's so special about this place?"

"The waters of Lake Nostos have the power to restore things to what they once were." Cora answered, raising the bottle of dirt to eye-level before she peered at it. "The water, mixed with these ashes, will open the portal that was once contained within the magical wardrobe."

"It's a good plan." Killian admitted. "There is one flaw though. The lack of water."

Cora laughed, but didn't explain any further. She didn't have the chance to, because David lumbered into the clearing and walked directly towards them, the compass clearly cradled between his hands. He came to a halt directly in front of Killian, stiffly holding the compass out towards him, but Cora snatched it before Killian could.

"Well done, Captain." She muttered, tilting the compass back and forth so that it shone brightly in the evening sun. "Now kill him."

Killian shook his head, pointedly returning David's heart to the pouch at his waist. "He doesn't need to die, Cora. Besides, I refuse to kill anyone like that. It's easy enough to make sure he doesn't follow us. Now, are you ready for us to leave?"

Cora raised an eyebrow, shook her head, and then, with a mere flick of her wrist, the ground beside them began shaking and then collapsing, a geyser of water erupting from the new crater. Cora stumbled back, as did David, but Killian didn't move. The water drenched him, plastering his hair to his forehead and soaking his clothes so they were stuck to his skin.

The water didn't stop. Killian wondered briefly if Cora was intending to refill the entire lake, but he was just glad that the water was falling heavily enough to obscure him from Cora's view. He reached out for David, tugging him towards him and waiting until he was certain Cora couldn't see what he was doing to thrust the heart back into David's chest, choosing to act quickly instead of carefully and ignoring David's pained groan.

Once the water finally settled, Cora sprinkled the ashes into the pool. The water swirled, the vicious whirlpool glowing brightly and opening into a familiar looking portal, although it was brighter and more dangerous-looking than any of the ones Killian had travelled through.

But it  _was_ a portal and that was all Killian needed.

"Thanks for opening the portal, witch." Emma stepped into the clearing, flanked by Mulan and Phillip, both of them holding their swords at the ready. She looked smug - she looked  _beautiful_ \- her arms folded across her chest, and a determined smile teasing the corners of her lips. "But you won't be getting anywhere  _near_ Storybrooke."

Cora gaped at her for a moment before hurriedly composing herself, a vicious smirk spreading across her face. "I should have known." She muttered angrily as she glanced between Emma and Killian. "Still, you won't be able to stop me. And you, Captain, well, you won't be going anywhere. With or without me."

She reached towards him, her fingers like claws, but David pushed her aside before she could attempt to rip out Killian's heart. Cora roared, throwing a fireball out towards Emma, but it disintegrated the moment it met the blade of Mulan's sword.

Cora never appeared in one place long enough to allow them to attack, vanishing anytime one of them drew near in a puff of smoke, a vicious crackle of magic announcing her wherever she reappeared. Mulan was quick enough to dart around and dispel the magic, something that was made easier by the fact that all of Cora's spells were directed towards Killian.

Emma couldn't reach David and Killian, Cora always seemed one step ahead, so that whenever Emma tried to move closer the ground would begin to shake uncontrollably or a fire would spring up between them..

They needed to distract Cora, that was obvious. She refused to let Killian, David and Emma reach the portal at the same time, obstructing them each time they moved closer to it. They couldn't reach her, not when they were trying to reach one another, and Mulan was too busy shielding everyone from Cora's spells to attack.

When Cora appeared near Phillip, who was standing protectively next to Aurora, he charged at her, sword outstretched. He was swept aside as if he was nothing and a blaze of fire sent him collapsing to the floor, his head banging against the dirt.

Mulan screamed his name, rushing away from Killian in order to join Aurora at the prince's side. He looked still as stone, but Killian didn't have time to dwell on it. Cora was finally standing in front of him, no longer hiding behind her illusions of spells and puffs of smoke.

She hesitated for only a moment, taking the time to smirk triumphantly at him, but a few seconds was all it took for Emma to dash over to Killian and push him aside, a pained gasp falling from her lips when Cora thrust her hand forward and into Emma's chest.

"Emma!"

Killian scrambled towards her, but a force from Cora kept him away. David was yelling too, but he seemed just as unable to reach his daughter. Killian could barely breath, the sight of the woman he loved about to have her heart ripped out too familiar and  _far_ too painful, especially since Cora had rendered him just as useless as he'd been centuries before.

He didn't know what he'd do if he saw Emma crumple to the ground, the ashes of her heart lost to the wind.

"You foolish girl! Don't you  _know_?" Cora reprimanded with a laugh, using her hold on Emma's heart to pull Emma close. Cora's eyes met Killian's over Emma's shoulder, narrowed in delight, and then she spat out a taunt that sent fury coursing through Killian's veins. "Love is  _weakness_."

To punctuate her words, she tugged on Emma's heart, but despite Emma's gasp of pain, and the way she swayed closer to Cora, her heart remained in her chest. Cora tried again, each attempt ripping a distressed cry from Emma but nothing else.

Then, just as Cora removed her hand, a burst of warm, white light pulsed from Emma's body. It felt the same as the magic that had broken Regina's curse, something that felt wonderful and  _right_ , the same feeling he had whenever he held Emma. Killian closed his eyes, basking in the magic sweeping over him, ruffling his hair and making his whole being feel lighter.

When he opened his eyes, Emma looked shocked and  _safe_ , Cora in a crumpled heap before her. "What was that?" she breathed, staggering towards Killian and gripping at his arms when he reached out to steady her, her touch a needed reminder that she was okay. "How did I-?"

"It doesn't matter now." He reassured her. "What matters is that we can get home."

She beamed at him, her gaze glancing towards the green portal still spinning behind them. "You did it."

Killian shrugged, releasing his hold on her once David was at their side and examining Emma for any sign of injury. "Well, I… I hardly did it alone."

Emma rolled her eyes before extending her hand out towards him. Their fingers laced together, and Emma linked her other arm with her fathers, then the trio approached the portal. Killian allowed himself one more glance at the three that had helped them, Mulan and Aurora still fussing over the body of Phillip, and then they jumped.

~~~*~~~

The portal spat Killian out in a narrow tube, his contact with Emma lost in the last few seconds of travelling. He had to reach out quickly, grasping at the rim of wherever he had appeared, and then he managed to lever himself up and out of the dark hole, his shoulder aching with each slight amount of weight put on it.

"Mr Jones?" It was a name he hadn't expected to hear again, and one that made him quickly look up. He'd appeared at the well on the outskirts of Storybrooke, and although it looked familiar enough for him to know he was in the right place, the presence of Henry was all the confirmation he needed. "Are you… you came back with my mom, right?"

"Of course." He muttered, turning to look back down the hollow of the well, and offering his hand to Emma when she appeared and clutched at the wall as well. "She's right here."

He helped her up, smiling when she immediately abandoned his side to rush at her son. Emma was smiling through tears, her expression more open than any she had displayed in their time at the Enchanted Forest.

It was only after he'd assisted David out of the well too that he allowed himself to look round the clearing. Emma and Henry were still hugging, Emma laying numerous kisses to her son's hair. Mary-Margaret had been with them, but she'd left their side to embrace David once he was standing up, the two of them kissing furiously, her hands cupping her husband's face as they murmured sweet words to one another.

They weren't the only ones there, however. A familiar wave of hatred coursed through Killian when he saw Rumplestiltskin standing near the others. The Crocodile looked angry, his lips drawn back into a sneer, and Killian returned the look, enjoying the frustration that rippled across the man's face when he noticed.

"What are  _you_ doing here?" Killian spat. "Rather convenient that all of you were here just as we arrived."

"You wouldn't survived if I hadn't been here." Rumplestiltskin replied. "You should be thanking me."

A tired laugh to Killian's left drew his attention to Regina. The mayor was slumped against a tree, her hair skewed and her face pale. "Without me." She corrected. "You were eager to let them all die. If I hadn't stopped you, they'd be dead."

"You wouldn't have had to stop me if you hadn't agreed to help originally." Rumplestiltskin hissed. "It's clear I'm not welcome at this touching reunion. Storybrooke might be more interesting now you've returned, Captain."

It was hardly a pleasant sentiment to return home to, and Killian had a nagging feeling that escaping the wraith wasn't the last plan of Rumplestiltskin's that he'd have to dodge.

"Help me!" The cry came from the well. Killian caught Emma's eye, the two of them wondering who had followed them, but David and Mary-Margaret were still too preoccupied to notice. "Please!"

He left Regina still sitting by the tree as he hurried over to offer assistance to whoever was in the well. to his surprise, it was Aurora, her expression panicked. He heaved her up, his shoulder twinging once again, and then watched her with narrowed eyes as she collapsed against the well, gasping for breath.

Aurora looked around the clearing, her stare fixing on Regina for a moment, and then she shook her head and sent a confused glance back towards Killian. "Is this… your Storybrooke?"

"Why are you here?" He asked instead of answering. "Why did you follow us?"

"There was no reason for me to stay." She told him, her voice shaking and a strange smile briefly crossing her face. "Cora, she… she killed Phillip. He didn't wake up. I… I didn't want to stay in the Enchanted Forest without him at my side."

He raised an eyebrow at her and she buried her face in her hands, loud sobs echoing through the forest around them.

"Sorry to interrupt the crying, but am I free to go home?" Regina asked loudly, a disgusted sneer on her lips as she looked from the princess to the still embracing couple. "Or are you going to attempt to return me to prison?"

Mary-Margaret and David finally broke apart, but Emma spoke before either of them had a chance. "Why are you even here?"

"Because her and Rumplestiltskin thought it would better to kill whoever it was that arrived through the portal than risk it being Cora." Mary-Margaret explained. "If Henry hadn't convinced her to stop, you'd all be dead."

"My hero." Emma muttered, ruffling Henry's hair and holding him close. "As Sheriff, I'd have to say attempted murder probably puts you back in a cell."

Regina scoffed. "Do you think that cell is enough to hold me? I may have been powerless before, and I know that Snow White enjoyed keeping me locked away from  _my_ son, but when Rumplestiltskin needed me, he gave me access to my magic. You're no Sheriff of  _mine_."

"Then go home." Emma sighed, clearly not in the mood to deal with Regina so soon after returning. "We'll discuss things more tomorrow. When I know what's been going on."

"And Henry?"

"Tomorrow." Regina scowled, but seemed too tired to argue, vanishing in a puff of purple smoke. "Now, kid, should we go back to the loft? I've  _really_ missed my bed."

Henry laughed. "Okay. Did you know Mary-Margaret got me my own bed for when I stay round?" He told her. "So I can live with you now. I guess we'll be sharing a room now you're back, but that's just going to make things even better!"

"Slow down!" Emma joked. "You can catch me up on everything once I've eaten something hot. Like a poptart or a burger or something I didn't have to catch myself."

Killian smiled, glad that the two of them were so happy now that they were back together. He didn't know Henry well, but he'd always been fond of the precocious child, and it was a strange feeling to have been a part of reuniting the two of them.

It was agreed pretty quickly after that for the family to retreat back home. They seemed eager to keep their return quiet until the following day, wanting to spend time together, but Mary-Margaret volunteered to orientate Aurora to the new world before she baked a macaroni cheese for them all.

They appeared to have forgotten Killian as they spoke loudly of plans, and he chose to linger by the well as they started to walk away. He had his own home that he'd missed, as well as friends, and he had no issues with announcing his return by walking into Granny's to order a lasagne. They deserved the time together. He shouldn't even be wishing he could join them.

"Give me a moment, kid."

He hadn't expected to hear Emma walking back towards him, and when he turned to smile weakly at her, he took the chance to peer over her shoulder to see if Henry was an audience to whatever she planned to say.

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked, swallowing nervously when she reached out to take his hand, her finger tracing lines across his palm. "It appears you were very missed."

"Yeah." She answered. "I just can't accept that Phillip died to get us here. I didn't realise what they were risking to help us until it was too late."

He nodded. He may have risked a lot for Emma, the woman he loved, but Phillip had risked a lot for people he barely knew. The prince had been far more heroic than Killian could ever hope to be. "But you're home. As terrible as Phillip's death is, things can only be better now that we're back here."

"I didn't steal a moment alone with you to talk about Phillip." She whispered, swaying closer to him. "I wanted to thank you. Even after… everything, you helped me get home. I just wanted to remind you that even if the town just sees you as Captain Hook now, I don't. That, and I wanted to check that you were safe."

He swallowed again, the usual flicker of anger that came with the reminder of her betrayal feeling lesser than usual, and he took advantage of their privacy to lean forward and press a light kiss to her forehead before he leant his down to meet hers. "Why wouldn't I be safe? We made it."

Emma rolled her eyes and then turned his palm upwards, her fingers still drawing nonsense on it. "The wraith? The mark's gone."

He hadn't even thought of the burn on his hand, but Emma's relief was contagious. He'd been preoccupied with lying to Cora to dwell on the creature that had hunted him, but Emma had remembered. She had left the side of her son to come back and make sure he was safe, and although he knew that he'd be alone again in mere minutes, he didn't feel the same bitterness he had only moments earlier.

"I suppose it has." He confirmed lightly, grinning down at her. "Shame, really. I'd started to enjoy running for my life each evening."

"You're an idiot." She breathed, and then she raised her chin and slid her lips over his. It wasn't the desperate goodbye they had shared only hours before, but a soft kiss that they were sharing simply because they could. There were no pressing dangers to tear them apart, and even though Killian knew Henry was waiting nearby, it felt like the world had narrowed to just them, just for a brief moment.

When she pulled away, he tried to chase her lips, but Emma laughed and stepped away. "Later." she promised. "Tomorrow, maybe. I'll call you. After all, we need that dinner, right?"

He watched her walk away.

~~~*~~~

With no reason not to reveal his return, Killian ventured into Granny's diner on his walk back to the Jolly Roger. He hadn't realised he'd missed the greasy smell of burgers and fries, but as soon as he stepped into the room, he had to pause and take a moment to inhale it.

The chatter of the customers and the warmth of the room was yet another thing he had missed, and although he had intended to pick up takeout and go, he took a seat at the counter instead.

"Rather different from the Enchanted Forest, isn't it?" He asked, noticing Aurora perched nervously on the stool nearby. "It'll take a while for you to settle in, but you'll get used to it."

Aurora frowned and then nudged at her plate of meatloaf with her fork. "I don't know about that, Captain."

Granny bustled over then, handing Killian a paper bag before fussing over the newly arrived princess. "He's not bothering you, is he?" She asked Aurora, appearing only slightly mollified when the girl shook her head. "Good. Now, Mr Jones, here's your usual."

"I hadn't ordered yet." He told her, placing the bag on the counter as he rummaged through his pockets for anything he could use to pay her. "Thank you though. That's exactly why I came here."

"On the house." Granny stated, shaking her head when he tried to hand her the few crumpled notes he had found. "It's the least Ruby and I could do."

That didn't make too much sense to Killian, but he was too exhausted to complain. He slipped the handles of the bag onto his hook, aware that Granny was watching him closely, and then gave her a tight smile in thanks.

"Hook?" Granny said, just before he could start to leave. "You might not have been yourself when you did it, but a long time ago, you returned Ruby's cloak to her. That saved the town a lot of trouble this week. We want to thank you, even if you're not that person anymore."

He didn't bother to correct her. "It sounds like things were chaotic after we left."

"Don't make it worse."

Her words were a warning. He tilted his head in acknowledgement, suddenly more aware of his hook than he had been in centuries. The whole town knew the story of Peter Pan and unlike the others, his prosthetic signalled exactly who he was and what sort of person he had been.

He left Granny's without a goodbye to Aurora, travelling to his ship through the back alleys and shortcuts that kept him out of sight of the other townsfolk. He'd prefer to avoid the withering looks of people who had once liked him.

The Jolly Roger appeared to be in the same condition it had been when they left, well-maintained apart from the cabin windows that the wraith had broken. It was a relief to see it still looked untouched, although Killian would still be undertaking a thorough search below deck. He had plenty of valuables that he hoped were still onboard.

There would be time to check after he'd eaten. He sat on one of the benches facing the horizon, the slightly greasy cardboard box hot against his thighs as he shovelled lasagne into his mouth.

It had never tasted so good, although he couldn't remember what it had been like to try for the first time.

He finished eating faster than he would have liked, threw the empty box away and finally ventured back into his home. It had the slightly dusty air of being unlived in for several days, but was as neat as he'd left it. He checked the cabin first, absently tidying away the shards of glass that were spread across the floor. There were a few papers on the floor, although with the broken window, he figured that was due to gusts of wind instead of any intruder.

He'd investigate more thoroughly after he'd had a shower and changed out of the outfit he'd worn for the last several days. He bundled a pair of pyjamas in his arms and walked the familiar path to the public showers.

He doubted that the poor lighting was an excuse for how pitiful he looked in the mirror. There were still faded red lines drawn across his cheeks from the wraith's attacks, and pale yellow bruises circling his eyes from Rumplestiltskin's attack and that didn't even take into account the dishevelled state that his stubble was in.

After a quick shave, he began to undress. It was only after his vest and shirt had been shrugged off that he noticed the chains around his neck looked different than he had expected. The magic bean that he had stolen from the giant was still hanging from the silver chain, but it was no longer shrivelled and dry but opalescent, it's faint glow bright against his chest.

He grasped at it, tugging it free from the chain and holding it between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it back and forth in the dim light to try and understand how it had changed into something useful.

The answer only occurred to him once he was in the shower, hot water streaming over him. Cora had told him the powers of Lake Nostos, had demonstrated them when she threw the ashes into the water she had called up. The waters had fallen over him, soaked through his clothes, and that must have been enough to return the bean to what it once was.

He wondered vaguely if the others would want to know, if  _Emma_ would want to know, but he decided against telling them. He could hardly imagine Mary-Margaret keeping such knowledge away from the rest of the townspeople, and those who were remembering the land they'd left might clamour to travel back to it.

Once he was back on his ship, he stashed the bean in his safe, tucking it neatly beside Milah's drawings and Liam's old satchel and then began his hunt through the rest of the ship.

It was almost all there, his treasure from years of piracy still stored in what had once been the crew's quarters still stashed in various bowls and chests. Yet Killian knew exactly what was missing, and exactly who had to have taken it.

Only days after he'd taken over the pawn shop, he'd found a blanket, one he recognised as Milah's handiwork. He'd taken it back to the Jolly Roger and stored it somewhere safe. In a room filled with treasures, only Rumplestiltskin would have stolen that over anything else, and in a burst of anger, Killian threw the nearest bowl of objects across the small room, feeling only slightly satisfied by the crash it made against the wooden walls.

He didn't care that he was only dressed in his pyjamas. He wanted to storm from his ship and through the streets of Storybrooke until he reached the Crocodile's shop and took it back.

The ringing of his phone stopped him from acting so impulsively, Emma's name on the small screen enough to make him start thinking clearly.

"Yes?" He snapped in greeting, wincing when he heard her surprised gasp on the other end of line. "Sorry. Hello. Is everything alright back at the loft?"

"Yeah. Henry's pretty much moved in." She told him after a few seconds of silence. "I have all these sports balls decorating my chest of drawers now, and we won't be using my room for any alone time any time soon."

"How does it feel to be back indoors?" He asked, forcing a more cheerful tone into his voice. "Warmer?"

"God, yes." Emma breathed. "I feel like I've either forgotten how good a cook Mary-Margaret was or I've just really missed her macaroni cheese. Although, that doesn't even compare to this bubble bath."

"You're in the bath?"

"There are four people living in this two-person loft." She said with a chuckle, and her laugh made the last traces of his anger leave him. "I'm taking advantage of the privacy that taking a bath involves to give you a call."

"Well, thank you." He muttered, balancing the phone between his chin and his shoulder as he tugged the blanket off his bed and relocated to the sparse crew's quarters. "I have to say, I'm glad you called."

"I told you I would." She reminded him. "Anyway, I'm going to spend time with Henry tonight and tomorrow morning, but Ruby told Mary-Margaret that she wants to throw a welcome-back party for us and you're invited to come."

"I saw Granny earlier." Killian scoffed. "I doubt I'll be welcome."

"Well, I'm inviting you, so you definitely are." Emma told him firmly. He grinned to himself, glad that her declaration that she didn't care that he was Captain Hook still seemed to be true. "Besides, Mary-Margaret and David promised that if I make sure Henry and I are out of the loft tomorrow morning, they'll watch a movie with him after the party. I figured I could accompany you back to your ship afterwards, if you're interested."

"Very."

"Good… well, that's great." She stumbled over her words, as though she hadn't expected him to take her up on her offer. "I need to sort things out with Regina tomorrow as well, but I'll fill you in on all that once it's sorted. I guess there's no rest for me, even back in Storybrooke."

"I'll try my best to tire you out tomorrow." He teased. "Once you're exhausted, I'm sure you'll manage to find time for a rest. If not, then I'll help out and make sure you can take a break."

"I'm looking forward to it."

She hung up after that. Killian couldn't stop grinning. He might have his own trouble to deal with the following day, as well as a ship to repair, but in that moment, he didn't care at all.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 31**

Killian couldn't remember the last time he had woken so close to noon, but his week in the Enchanted Forest had taken its toll. Waking up in the crew's quarters was slightly disorienting, and it took him a few moments to recall the events of the day before. He thought of Emma first, of how she'd spoken to him on the phone and kissed him goodbye, but the thoughts didn't distract him for long from the realisation he'd had the day before.

Rumplestiltskin had taken one of the only things he had that Milah had made.

The moment he remembered, he felt a surge of anger that was powerful enough to get him out of bed and dressed, determined to go and claim the shawl back from his shop. He'd found it hidden in the backroom, crumpled up in a cupboard, so he found it difficult to believe that Rumplestiltskin had even valued it until he knew that Killian did.

He kept to the back streets again as he hurried towards the pawnbrokers, even less keen to see the distrustful expressions of the people who had once respected him than he had been the night before. He imagined it would be worse in daylight.

Although he had considered entering through the back door, he wanted Rumplestiltskin to see him. He wasn't going to sneak the shawl back to the ship. He wanted Rumplestiltskin to know that Killian cared too much to let him get away with taking it.

His dramatic entrance was ruined slightly by the chiming of the bell announcing his appearance. He hadn't noticed Lacey's presence through the window, but whatever hushed conversation she had been having with the Crocodile faltered as soon as Killian appeared. Rumplestiltskin's lip curled at the introduction, hatred written across his face.

Killian didn't say anything for a moment, finding his eye drawn to the small changes in the shop and being disproportionately annoyed by them. He'd only been gone a week and yet the pawnshop looked different. It was darker, the objects crowding the room, and the corner he had once cleared out to display his hand-drawn maps and salvaged nautical equipment was now indistinguishable from the rest of the shop.

"Why are you here?" Rumplestiltskin snarled after too long spent glaring at him. "This is  _my_ shop, remember?"

"You've made that clear." Killian replied. "Did you throw my maps away or did you burn them?" Rumplestiltskin sneered, a ball of fire appearing in the palm of his hand for a brief moment before it flickered away. "Is it too much to assume that you've kept Milah's shawl unharmed?"

"It's unharmed." Rumplestiltskin told him. "It's also  _mine_. It always was. It was in this shop, so if you're coming here to reclaim it, then you're out of luck. It doesn't belong to you."

"You don't deserve to have  _anything_ Milah made." Killian spat, surging across the room to thump his hand down angrily on the glass counter. "After what you did to her, how can you claim to treasure  _anything_ she made?"

Lacey looked uncomfortable, rocking slightly from side to side and cradling her stomach, but she remained bravely in place.

"It belonged to my son." Rumplestiltskin told him, "Now, if you know what's good for you, you'll walk away. I may have promised not to kill you, but I'm sure there are many ways I can make your life unpleasant. Whatever reputation you scraped together from the remnants of my estate, it's gone. You're nothing now. Who do you think will care if you're… inconvenienced?"

"Rumple!" Lacey looked horrified, and that seemed to be enough to make Rumplestiltskin look apologetic. It was insincere, Killian could tell that much, but it seemed to appease Lacey. " _I'd_ care."

Rumplestiltskin grimaced at Lacey's declaration. "You imprisoned me for close to thirty years." He hissed, and Killian got the feeling that he was saying it purely to remind Lacey of Killian's own crimes. "That doesn't mean that anything in this shop belongs to you. Although it's become clear that you were more than happy to give many things away."

"Forcing desperate people to trade you precious objects does not mean the object is yours." Killian hissed. "I'll get that shawl back. Just watch."

He stormed out of the shop, Rumplestiltskin's laughter echoing in his ears. Confronting the Crocodile had been foolish. He should have watched the shop and waited until it was empty, sneaking inside it to snatch the shawl back. Instead, he'd let his anger give him a false sense of urgency and convinced himself he needed it back in his possession that very day.

"Killian!" He paused when he heard someone calling out to him. "Killian, wait!"

Lacey was hurrying him after him. Killian grimaced slightly, certain that if Rumplestiltskin wasn't already determined to carry out his threats, Lacey following him from the store was bound to make him even angrier.

"I didn't know you were back." She said once she caught up with him. "How are you? Do you want a coffee?"

"Weren't you busy?" He grumbled. She didn't answer. Instead, Lacey took his arm and steered him across the street to the library. "Sorry for interrupting your discussion with your boyfriend."

Lacey shrugged, leading him through the stalls to the staircase up to her small apartment. She left him on the couch, murmuring something about only having decaf before she moved to the small kitchen in the corner.

He'd been in the apartment many times, but it looked different than it had been before the curse broke. Lacey had definitely tidied. The room looked pristine, the small photos of Lacey with her friends no longer spread around the room but displayed in a neat cabinet.

What struck Killian most, however, was that she'd kept all the photos, even the ones with him. He hadn't realised it until that moment, but after his discussion with Granny the night before, he had assumed that the curse breaking would leave him unwelcome in this realm, even among people he had known for years. That was why he'd been so desperate to retrieve Milah's shawl, it was easy to cling to the one purpose he had pursued for centuries.

If Lacey still kept the photo of them on the wall, things hadn't completely changed.

"You know, Lacey, you look well." He said with a smile, watching her hasten around her apartment. "How have you been since the curse broke?"

She bustled around the small kitchen for a few minutes, joining him on the couch after placing two cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits on the table in front of them. "I've been… well, I could be better. How about you?"

Killian narrowed his eyes at her, taking in the circles under her eyes and her miserable expression. "Other than the conversation you just witnessed with Rumplestiltskin, I can't say I have anything to complain about at the moment." He said honestly, feeling like he could hardly complain about a change he should have expected when Lacey had woken up to her true self a week ago with everything different. "What's wrong?"

"It's going to take some explaining." She told him, as though he wouldn't want to hear it.

"I have time." He promised.

Lacey laughed weakly and then settled into the couch, her legs curled up under her and the steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands. "I guess you do. You don't exactly have a shop to run anymore. It's just that things have been crazy since the curse broke. Rumple and I… it's been a long time. Even before the curse. I love him and I believe he can be a better man. I've always believed that."

"I suspect this last week hasn't made you more certain."

"I still believe he can change." Lacey insisted. "But it's not just me I have to think about anymore. I'm having a child, no matter how unexpected that is, and I can't keep  _hoping_ he'll different. I need to  _know_ he is."

"I'm hardly the one to talk to about the good side of Rumplestiltskin." Killian pointed out. "I wish I could reassure you, but you have to know by now how I feel about him."

"I know." Lacey stated. "I'm still not clear on why, but I think I can guess what happened. It's just… even if it didn't last, I thought he'd manage a few days. I thought he'd  _try_ for me. He promised he wouldn't kill you, but that just led to him releasing the wraith and, well, I wanted to talk to him and  _be_ with him, so we sat and talked and I told him about the baby. Keith's been missing since that night. I don't want to believe it's because of Rumple, but I just know it is. Keith was a jerk, sure, but he was as cursed as the rest of us, and I don't… if Rumplestiltskin can't even be good for  _me_ , how can I trust him around my child?"

"I'm sorry." Killian murmured, unable to think of anything else to say. "I can't even begin to understand what it must be like for you."

"I have  _no one_ , Killian." Lacey said, bowing her head as a sob wracked through her. "My father tried to send me over the town line because he thought I'd be safer forgetting Rumplestiltskin altogether, and maybe I would, but it should be my choice, shouldn't it?"

"You're not alone, Lacey." Killian promised, reaching out to give her a quick hug. "We've been friends for close to thirty years, remember? I'm hardly going to abandon you now. I'm sure Emma will be there for you, as will Ruby. Whatever happens with Rumplestiltskin, having no one is the last thing you need to worry about."

"Unless he kills you."

Killian couldn't deny that an attempt was likely, so he simply shrugged. "Now, you might need to explain the town line debacle. Last I remember, people couldn't cross it but it sounds like things have changed."

Lacey blinked at him. "If you cross it, you forget. All you remember is your cursed self. If my father had succeeded, I'd just be Lacey."

She went on to explain that one of the dwarves had managed to end up with that fate, as well as mentioning that Mother Superior was looking for a cure. They talked for a while after that, their usual exchange of weekly news filled with more magic and danger than usual. It was only when Lacey checked the time that they stopped chatting. She insisted she had work to do, although he was certain it was more for a distraction than out of necessity, and he was rather keen to get the window on his ship fixed before the evening.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked, once he was stood in the doorway and ready to leave. "We could get lunch? Our usual time?"

"Yeah." She agreed. "I'll see you then, Killian."

"You too, Lacey."

He started to walk away, but Lacey spoke again. "Can you call me Belle?" She asked quietly. "Everyone else seems not to care which name they use but… I'm not Lacey anymore. I'll never be Lacey, not with these memories. I just…. there are a lot of things that I'd rather forget from the curse."

"Whatever you want." He told her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Belle."

~~~*~~~

Killian had attempted to replace the windows of his cabin, but it had been surprisingly difficult to find anyone in town willing to supply him with the tools he needed, even for rather substantial amounts of gold, and as the evening drew near, he resigned himself to the fact that if Emma did return to his ship with him, they'd most likely have to spend their time together in the crew quarters.

He made the bed, wanting it to be neater than the pile of sheets he had collapsed on the night before, and prepared an oil lamp to light upon his return before leaving for Granny's. He didn't wear his hook, attaching the wooden prosthetic instead, in the hope that the familiar hand would be reassuring to any who distrusted him.

It was a relief to see Emma standing outside Granny's. They hadn't arranged anything further than the two of them attending, so he had expected to have to work his way through the crowd to find her in the diner.

"Are you waiting for me?" He said in greeting, his own smile faltering when Emma glanced up and sent him a breath-taking smile.

"No. I just needed to get away from Snow White and the seven dwarves for a while." She told him. "They've been asking David so many questions about the Enchanted Forest and I'm just glad we're out of there. But, I am  _very_ glad that you're here."

He offered her his arm to lead her into the diner, but when she stood up, she just stepped close to him and trailed her hand up his arm before gently tracing her fingers along the faint red lines that still marred his face.

"You know, you should probably have your arm back in a sling now that we're no longer climbing beanstalks." She pointed out, her voice a low whisper. "I don't like it when you're beaten up like this. I can't stop worrying about you."

He gaped at her. "Worrying?" He repeated faintly. "I didn't expect… you're really committing to this, aren't you? To us."

She swallowed nervously and then raised herself up onto her toes to brush a gentle kiss to his lips. "I made a mistake back in the Enchanted Forest but it showed me what I want. And that's you."

Killian smiled at her, took her hand in his and then the two of them entered the diner.

It wasn't a big gathering. Aside from Emma's family, the only other guests were the dwarves, Ruby and Granny. A banner had been hung across the room, the words 'Welcome home, Mary-Margaret' written across it, although the name 'Mary-Margaret' had been crossed out and David and Emma's were written underneath in glitter.

"Emma!" Mary-Margaret pushed her way through the crowd of dwarves towards them, a glass of champagne in one hand and a plate of sausage rolls in the other. "I was wondering where you'd gone."

"I just needed some air." Emma said, shrugging. "I fell through  _one_  portal, you don't have to keep checking up on me."

Mary-Margaret reddened slightly and glanced away from Emma. Killian saw her eyes widen when she finally noticed him at Emma's side and he sent her a smirk in response. "Hook." Mary-Margaret stated, suddenly fixated on Killian and Emma's joined hands. "I didn't realise you were invited. Granny said this party was just for family."

"Of course he's invited." Emma said, to both Killian and Mary-Margaret's surprise. "He's my boyfriend. Why wouldn't he come?"

She said it so casually, through a mouthful of sausage roll, that for a moment, Killian was certain he hadn't heard correctly. Mary-Margaret was gaping at her daughter as well, and although Killian hadn't dwelled on the thought that Mary-Margaret's attitude towards him might have changed, she was clearly far less enthused by Emma's announcement than she would have been before.

"He is? David didn't say that you two were still…" Mary-Margaret seemed flustered, especially when Emma released Killian's hand to pointedly wrap her arm around his waist. "Well, then of course you're welcome. I shouldn't have… well, I thought that now that the curse was broken, you wouldn't want… I assumed that things would be different. How are you?"

"Fine." He answered shortly. "You?"

"My family's back together again. I couldn't be happier." She answered politely. "David has at least told me that you played a big part in getting them home. I should say thank you."

"I didn't do it for you."

"Maybe not, but I still want to say thank you." Mary-Margaret smiled weakly, starting to move away when there was a loud call from the dwarves, wanting her to come back and keep celebrating. "Just one question, Hook. What was it like back home? We've all been wondering what to expect when we return."

"Return?" He repeated, feeling Emma stiffen against him. When he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, she was scowling at her mother. "The realm's hardly inhabitable these days, your Majesty. Besides, there's no way  _to_ return."

His lie seemed to relax Emma, even if it disappointed Mary-Margaret. He was certain Emma must have sensed the dishonesty of his words, but she seemed not to care. "I'm sure we can find a way." Mary-Margaret insisted. "You'll live in a castle one day, Emma. Like you were meant to."

Emma laughed nervously in response, sagging against Killian's side when Mary-Margaret finally returned to her husband's side. "Can you see why I needed to get away? She just… It's all different now."

She took his hand to lead him across the room to one of the diner's booths, clearly as disinterested in spending time with the fairytale group as he was. Killian caught David's eye as they crossed the room, and was surprised by the prince's friendly grin and raised glass to acknowledge them.

"You lied." Emma spoke quietly the moment they both sat down in the booth. "I know you did. There's a way back to the Enchanted Forest, isn't there?"

Killian inhaled deeply, tucking Emma under his arm as he considered what to say. "I-"

"Wait. No. Don't tell me." She interrupted him with a finger across his lips. "I don't want to know. Lie to them all you want. Just not to me. But don't tell me how we can get back, just tell me if we can. Could we return there?"

"I have a way." He whispered, certain she wouldn't want anyone else to hear. "But I don't intend for anyone to use it."

"You don't want to go home?"

"You're  _here_. Why would I want to be anywhere else?" He said truthfully, blinking at the sight of her blinding smile. "And you don't want to go back there, so we won't. No one will."

She kissed him, just a quick brush of her lips to his, and left his side to fetch them each a glass of champagne, mentioning something about taking advantage of the alcohol that Mary-Margaret had persuaded Granny to provide in celebration.

"You know, I wish Mary-Margaret understood me like you do." She murmured when she returned. "She won't shut up about returning home. To our home. I've  _never_ had a home, and the Enchanted Forest is the last place I'd want to have one. At least David seems to know that I can't just  _adjust_ to all this."

She buried her face in his shoulder, sighing heavily against him when he allowed himself to drop a kiss to her temple. Someone was watching them, probably Granny or Leroy, but he didn't care.

"They want things to keep changing." She told him. "But I like it here. Why do things need to be different?!"

"No matter what they want, Swan, there's no way back." He reminded her. "No way that they know of, anyway. You don't need to worry."

Emma smiled tremulously up at him, and he was going to kiss her again, this time on the lips despite their judgmental audience, but a muffled laugh distracted him. He looked away from Emma's mouth to see Henry standing by the table, an expectant look on his face as he glanced between Killian and his mother.

"Henry?"

"Mr Jones. Mom." He chirped in greeting, sliding into the booth so he was sat across from them. "So, you're not Prince Charles? You're Captain Hook?"

The lad's gaze flicked quickly down to Killian's wooden hand, disappointment settling across his face when he saw the usual prosthetic instead of the weapon he had clearly hoped to see.

"That's me." He stated. "The most dangerous pirate to ever sail the seas."

Emma rolled her eyes, but Henry's grin widened. "I thought you'd actually have a hook… but you being a pirate is still really cool. Do you know Peter Pan? Have you been to  _Neverland_?"

"He does have a hook." Emma answered before Killian could, a sly smirk dancing across her lips as she trailed her fingers lightly across the base of his prosthetic. "I don't know why he's not wearing it right now, but trust me, you'll get to see it. He's still missing a parrot and eyepatch though."

"I've never met a pirate with a parrot." Killian reminded them, feeling lighter than he had all day when the two of them laughed. "As for your other questions, the answer is yes to both of them."

Henry gaped at him. "Really? Peter Pan's real?"

"Unfortunately." Killian told him, grumbling when Henry just laughed at his response. "And, I'm sure, far less exciting that whatever you've been up to this last week."

That started Henry talking. A lot had occurred in the last week, and although they had received vague details from Aurora when they were still in the Enchanted Forest, Henry clearly had many more details to tell them.

The most exciting thing that appeared to have happened was a fiasco involving Dr Whale and Regina's dead fiancé. Henry didn't seem to know too much, but it seemed that Whale had brought Regina's fiancé back to life, only for him to be violent and angry. Snow White had allowed Regina out of the cell at the Sheriff's station in an attempt to calm him, but when the monster had turned on Regina, Mary-Margaret had used a bow and arrow to take him down.

Mary-Margaret hadn't given Henry any more information, but the young boy told them that by the following day, Regina was back in her cell and refusing to talk to anyone, not even Henry.

By the time Henry finished telling the story, David and Mary-Margaret were waiting to take him home. "Are you sure you don't want to spend time with us? As a family?" Mary-Margaret asked. "You only got back yesterday."

Emma sighed, glancing guiltily at her son. "Do you want me to join you?"

Henry shrugged. "I don't mind. As long as I can talk to Grandpa tonight. Mary-Margaret said he would teach me sword-fighting when you all got back and I don't want to wait anymore."

"And we  _did_  spend ages making tacos for this party." Emma stated, grinning at her son as she gestured towards the tray of food on the bar. The mention of tacos made Mary-Margaret look embarrassed, and although Killian expected a few more protestations from her, she seemed too flustered to comment. "So, have fun sword-fighting. I'll be back before breakfast, so how about a meal at Granny's before school tomorrow?"

Henry nodded, and after Emma had given him a quick kiss on the forehead, he followed his grandparents out of the diner.

"I'm not a terrible mother, am I?" Emma muttered, leaning her head against Killian's shoulder. "We really have spent most of the day together but this  _is_ only our second night back."

"He seemed excited to be spending time with Dave." Killian reassured her. "If the four of you were at home, I imagine he'd be distracted anyway."

That seemed enough to reassure her, and after exchanging awkward goodbyes with the dwarves and Granny, the two of them retreated to the Rabbit Hole for stronger drinks.

It seemed busier than it had before the curse ended, but they still managed to find a secluded table. They leant close to one another as they talked, Emma taking his hand in hers as they spoke. For a moment, it felt like things had months earlier, when they'd first sat together and talked, except with more affection.

"I didn't get the chance to ask you about your day." He stated after a sip of rum. "How are you? With the curse broken, I'm sure returning to Storybrooke doesn't feel as familiar as you'd have hoped."

Emma laughed. "You're right about that. It turns out living with a friend is very different to living with someone who wants be your parent. And don't even get me started on the conversation I had with Rumplestiltskin this morning. Honestly, I could do with never hearing the word 'magic' again."

"You spoke to Rumplestiltskin?"

"I'll tell you about it tomorrow." Emma promised. "Can we use tonight to pretend things are normal? With you, it's easy to feel like everything is normal. I guess it's because… well, you were right when you told me that not everything would change.  _You_ haven't."

He grumbled slightly, but if Emma wanted to spend a few hours pretending her life was magic-free, he wasn't going to protest. After all, as dull as Storybrooke had often been, life had been nice without the ever-present danger of magic.

"And what would our normal be?"

Emma shrugged. They remained silent for a while, Killian adjusting their hands so that he could raise Emma's hand to his lips and press the occasional kiss to her knuckles as they enjoyed their time alone. Eventually conversation started again, topics ranging from Emma's surprisingly successful custody discussions she'd had with Regina that day, something that had culminated in an agreement that Regina could occasionally spend time with Henry if they were supervised, to Killian insisting that he didn't need his collarbone x-rayed.

Emma seemed to disagree, but by that time, they were only exchanging whispered words and quick kisses, and Killian was hardly paying any attention to the actual contents of their discussion. He couldn't, not with Emma's hand on his thigh and her gaze heavy and wanting.

He was the one who gave in first, standing from the table and offering her his hand. She took it with a giggle, leaning her head against his shoulder after he wrapped his arm around her waist and began to lead her out of the Rabbit Hole and through the narrow alleys to the docks.

They had barely made it below the deck of the Jolly Roger before Emma stopped walking. She took his hand, tugging him close so that she could press against him and kiss him, her free hand in his hand and holding him to her.

His mouth moved over hers, and although she was still clinging to him, he managed to back them down the corridor and into the dark crews' quarters.

"It's not the most comfortable room." He murmured, speaking each apologetic word through their frenzied kisses. "It's not… I'm sorry."

"I don't care. I want this. I never stopped wanting this." She breathed, releasing her grip on him so that she could start to undress him, quick fingers undoing every button on his vest. He felt like he could barely breath, enraptured by her as she pressed him against the wall of the cabin. "This whole week… I've  _needed_ this. You."

She was definitely being more verbal than usual, murmuring incomprehensible words into his skin as she marked a path of kisses down his chest. The few words he did hear seemed to be apologies, for leaving him behind, for not trusting him, but the bitter memories that he expected to surface at the reminder remained elusive.

He sighed her name, his breath hitching when her next kiss was pressed only millimetres from the waistband of his jeans, and then she stood to slide her lips over his. Killian held her close, his hand on the small of her back anchoring her to him.

"I don't know what I feel for you, but I feel  _so_ much." She broke the kiss to whisper the words, her nose brushing against his and her stare unwavering. He couldn't say anything in response, not when she'd sounded so sincere as she said words that he'd have never expected.

Her smile turned from soft and affectionate to mischievous, and when she dropped to her knees, her fingers hooking in the waistband of his jeans, he stopped thinking completely.

~~~*~~~

Killian was woken by a kiss. It took him a few moments to adjust to the darkness, but he could see the shape of Emma as she pulled on her clothes.

"What time is it?" He grumbled. Emma paused when she heard his voice, sitting on the edge of the small bed once she was dressed, her hand trailing down his arm until she could find his own hand and lace their fingers. "It's too dark to be morning."

"Something like four in the morning." She told him, a tired laugh falling from her lips when he groaned. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. I didn't want you to think that I'd… to run away. But I want to be home before Henry wakes up."

"You can't stay for five more minutes?" He asked, smiling when she shrugged and curled up against him.

"Just five more." She murmured as she pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Then I have to go."

He kissed her, sleepy enough to only catch the corner of her lips with his own but still enough to draw a sigh from her. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer and burying his head in her shoulder.

"Why were you willing to try again? After everything?" She asked suddenly, her fingers combing through his hair. It was relaxing, lulling him back to sleep, but Emma's question was distracting enough to keep him awake. "No one else would have cared enough. Why do you?"

"Why wouldn't I want this?" He mumbled, and she tensed. Perhaps she hadn't expected him to reply, or thought that he was already asleep. "One mistake wouldn't change how I feel. Not when I've felt this way for so long."

"Since I saved you?" Emma asked the question breathlessly, her fingers pausing in their ministrations. "You said, before the curse broke, that I'd saved you. What did you mean?"

"Before the curse, before you were born," He started slowly, feeling Emma's stare even though he was still nuzzling into her. "I met you. I don't know how, but as blurred as that night is, I remember  _you_ with perfect clarity. Your face, your eyes, your hair. Everything. That night, I kissed you and I could see a future again."

"A future?" Emma said shakily. "What the hell do you mean?"

"Not a future with you." He clarified. "But I had believed, for a long time, that all I had left in my life was revenge and that once I'd taken it, there'd be nothing else for me to live for. Kissing you gave me hope that there could be more."

He'd terrified her. She was actually trembling against him, her fingers frozen in his hair. Her sudden stillness roused him and he suddenly worried that he had been thoughtless in telling her about their unexplainable meeting, whether he would have thought it wise had he been more awake. But she'd asked and for a moment, he'd wanted her to know just what she'd done for him.

"You sound crazy."

"I know." He mumbled. " _I_  thought it was crazy. You couldn't be the woman I kissed before the curse, not when you were from this realm, but you were unmistakeable. I can't explain it, and trust me, I've tried. But that night changed things.  _You_ changed things. As for being willing to try again, well, with you, I can  _still_ see hope, and that's how I know things will be alright. No matter what mistakes we make."

She moved suddenly, jolting away from him and standing from the bed. The loss of her made him feel cold, but he knew better than to expect her to return to his side, especially after his foolish declaration.

"I'm not running." She said sharply, although even through the darkness he could see that she was on edge, fidgeting and tapping her fingers against her thigh. "It's just… that's a lot to think about."

"You're  _not_ running?"

Emma inhaled deeply, as though steeling herself for whatever she was about to do, then she leant down to give him another kiss. "No. I'm not. But it's scary that you've been committed to  _this_ for so long."

"It isn't like that." He muttered. "I haven't spent a lifetime waiting for you. Well, I wasn't  _aware_  I was waiting for you. I didn't expect you to be the one who would drive into town and make time move again. I don't want you because of one kiss decades ago. I want you because of who you are."

He didn't mention the way his heart had pounded when he first saw her in the Sheriff's station, bringing back all the memories that had begun to fade with time. She'd intrigued him, not only because of the sudden mystery of their meeting, but because of how things changed when she arrived. He'd cared for her quickly, something that had been inevitable given the way she had broken the monotony he'd been stuck in, but it was only when she kissed him at Christmas that he realised the truth.

He loved her, although it was hardly the time to tell her that.

Emma didn't say another word in response, although she did kiss him goodbye before hurrying from the cabin. He heard her footsteps as she moved across the deck, and it was only when he was certain that she was gone that he burrowed further into the blanket, his eyelids feeling heavy with sleep.

~~~*~~~

The following morning, the conversation he'd had with Emma early that morning was hazier than he had hoped. Killian remembered his words, and he remembered her response, but there was a dreamlike fog to the memories, and despite wishing otherwise, part of him wasn't sure if he'd actually told her about their kiss or if it had only been a dream.

He didn't let himself dwell on it. He'd spent the last week doubting his relationship with Emma, and all that had done was lead to misunderstandings. Instead, he distracted himself by measuring the height and width of the windows in the Captain's cabin, jotting the dimensions down on a strip of paper he ripped from the first sheet he found in the room.

Killian knew there was someone in town who owned a small glazier business, but he wasn't sure if that business was still open after the curse, not to mention if the owner would be willing to help him. It was worth a try, however, so he tucked the scrap of paper in his jean pocket and left the Jolly Roger.

The man at the shop, Boots, was surprisingly willing to assist him. Despite acting wary, he still remembered the numerous times that Killian had been lenient with the rent, and he agreed to come to the Jolly Roger to take a look at the broken window and give Killian a price.

Before he could lead the man to the docks, his phone rang. Killian hadn't expected Emma to ring, but it was her name printed across the screen. With a quick promise to return later for more discussions, Killian left the shop and answered the call.

"Swan?" He greeted. "You alright?"

"Did you see Aurora yesterday?" She asked, her voice shaky. "Do you know if  _anyone_ saw her after Mary-Margaret took her to Granny's?"

"I haven't seen her since the day we returned." He answered. "Is something wrong?"

"We found her this morning. Her body. David and I thought we should see how she was settling in, but… When we got to her room, the door was open and she was just  _lying_ there." She was speaking quickly, a barely hidden undertone of panic in her voice. "Ruby said that they'd heard her breathing last night, because apparently that's something they can  _do_ now, since the curse, but she was definitely dead when we saw her."

"I can be at the station in five minutes." He told her. "Do you want me to meet you at the station?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good." She breathed. "David and I really don't have a lot to go on and it might be better with more people."

"I'll be there soon."

Emma hung up after his promise, and Killian didn't bother to return to the glazier. Instead, he hurried through the streets of Storybrooke. He had been foolish to delude himself into thinking that they'd have the opportunity for anything normal. not now that they were in a town with magic.

When he walked into the Sheriff's station, David was talking with Ruby and Granny. Emma was in the Sheriff's office, her head in her hands. He rapped his hook against the door frame when he entered, a sympathetic smile crossing his face when Emma looked up at him, exhausted circles beneath her eyes.

"No rest for the wicked." Emma sighed, her eyelids fluttering closed when he approached her and used his only hand to rub circles on her back. "This is just  _insane_. Who would want to kill Aurora?"

"I wish I had an answer for you." Killian muttered, grimacing when he spotted the pictures on Emma's desk. "Unfortunately, there could be numerous people in town with a vendetta against Aurora that we're unaware of. After all, we hardly know anyone now that the curse has broken."

"Don't remind me." Emma grumbled. "Although, I was pretty certain that, of all the villains that might be in Storybrooke, Maleficent was the one we'd managed to get rid of."

"We'll figure it out." He promised. "Do you have any idea  _how_ she died?"

"No idea at all." She muttered. "I mean, there's no sign of  _anything_ that could have killed her so David thinks it's probably magic. Which, you know, wasn't something I took into consideration when I ran for Sheriff. The only idea I have is asking Rumplestiltskin for help."

"What?"

She sighed, shrugging her shoulder free from his touch and spinning in her chair to meet his gaze with a sheepish expression. "Well, you know how I told you I spoke to Rumplestiltskin yesterday?"

"Vaguely." He admitted. "Why  _did_ you speak to him?"

"Because I wanted to know what the hell happened after Cora tried to take my heart." She explained. "I'd have told you earlier, but I knew how you'd react. I know how you feel about him. And about magic."

"I'd have been concerned." He told her. "You  _can_ let me worry about you."

"Not when there's no need." Emma insisted, her fingers rapping anxiously against the wooden desk. "Look, the short version is that apparently  _I_ have magic. That's what the white light was. He said it was something to do with being the product of true love. I would have told you yesterday, but I was trying really hard not to think about it."

"You have magic?" He wondered if he should have been more surprised by her words, but he'd felt the power wash over him. It had been warm, lifting something inside of him and making him feel lighter than he'd felt in years. It seemed only natural that the magic that made him feel that way came from the woman who made his entire life brighter. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know yet." Emma said. "Are  _you_ okay? Magic's… well, magic hasn't exactly added much to your life."

Killian shook his head, an exasperated chuckle escaping him. "The only magic I've experienced has been wielded by villains like the Crocodile or Cora. Your magic is different. I know that. I've felt that. Trust me, Swan. No matter what happens, you don't have to worry about how  _I_ feel. You having magic isn't going to change that."

Emma raised an eyebrow, staring at him for a few minutes before believing his words. She swallowed and smiled at him, the smile quickly fading when she glanced back at the photographs. "I still think that talking to Rumplestiltskin is the best plan we've got."

"And I disagree. At least, search the forest and investigate before you turn to him." He pleaded. "We should look for anything that might suggest another saw Aurora's arrival. We should question Regina. She may know more. She might be able to help."

"According to Regina, Mary-Margaret killed her fiancé for the second time this week. Getting any sort of custody arrangement out of her was difficult enough. She's not going to help." Emma pointed out. "You can go search in the woods. Text me with anything you find. But I'm talking to Rumplestiltskin."

"If there's nothing I can say to persuade you to do otherwise, at least let me accompany you."

"I'll go with David." Emma said reassuringly, although it hardly made Killian feel any better. "Let me know if you find anything near the well."

They didn't speak for much longer. Emma was understandably distracted by the murder of the young woman that had followed them home, and although he attempted to reassure her that, even with magic, she would be able to solve the new case, she barely seemed to listen. He couldn't say he blamed her. Magic itself brought a dangerous new set of rules that would almost make him miss the dull predictability of cursed Storybrooke.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

David, Emma and Killian had split up after leaving the Sheriff station. Emma had acquiesced to letting David accompany her to the Crocodile's shop, which was enough to stop Killian's protests, despite still wanting to accompany her. Killian had walked the other way, towards the forest.

Killian couldn't think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Aurora, but as he'd pointed out before, there were a lot of unknowns in Storybrooke now that the curse was broken. He ventured to the well first, but despite a thorough search, he couldn't find any trace of anyone.

It wasn't enough to dissuade him. His cartography habit meant that he knew the footpaths through the forest better than most, and although he'd checked the places someone could hide near the well, he knew there were many other places along the path they'd walked that could have allowed someone to spot Aurora.

He ventured towards the townline first, but he only made it a few hundred metres before drawing to a halt. On any other day, the sight of the old trailer buried beneath broken twigs and dried leaves wouldn't have even registered. It had been a fixture of the woods since he first explored decades earlier, rusted and dirty, but he'd never seen any sign that it was inhabited.

Yet the silhouette moving behind the aged curtains was unmistakeable. Killian watched for a moment, the figure moving stiffly away from the window and further into the trailer. It hadn't been a trick of the light, and that was enough to make Killian adjust his hook and cross the clearing.

He didn't knock. Instead, Killian carefully pushed the door open and stepped into the small trailer. It looked just as dingy as he had expected, moth-eaten curtains drawn across every window and a grey tinge to all the furniture.

"I know you're here." He called out when he reached the door, his hook poised for an attack despite the stiffness of his arm. "Whoever you are."

"It's just me." The voice was familiar, but not enough for Killian to identify the speaker. "Why are you here?"

"Because someone's been murdered and I want to know if you know anything."

"You're working for the Sheriff station now?" Killian shuffled a few steps as the door opened, gaping as the door swung open and a wooden man stepped out. Killian raised his eyebrows, watching as he shuffled stiffly into the main area of the trailer. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I wasn't expecting  _you_." Killian stated. He hadn't thought about August Booth since the day Emma had called him crying, but finding him made out of wood in the abandoned trailer was the last place he would have expected to see him again. "You look… different."

August chuckled bitterly, but didn't explain. "I don't know anything about a murder. I've kept the curtains closed since I found this place. If there was something to see, I didn't see it."

"You're as helpful as ever." Killian grumbled, folding his arms and leaning against the wall instead of joining August on the grey couch. "You didn't even see the commotion that was our return to this realm?"

"I didn't know you had even left. And Emma, I guess. Are the two of you still whatever you were?" The man's painted eyes glanced at Killian's hook, and although it was hard to make out August's exact expression, he thought August looked surprised. "Even now that you're Captain Hook?"

"I was always Captain Hook." Killian snapped. "Especially with Emma. I wasn't going to be someone else around her."

August looked skeptical. "I didn't think you'd keep it up after the curse was broken. I didn't think Emma would want to. Not after everything you lied about." He admitted bitterly. "Fairy tales were too much for her to handle when it was my life on the line, but she can clearly cope when it's you."

Killian shook his head, unwilling to waste time talking with the puppet when Emma needed his help. "Look, just tell me if you know anything about Aurora. Is there anyone you've seen around the forest who might have less than moral intentions?"

"I've seen no one." August hissed. "I don't  _want_ to see anyone."

The man looked utterly miserable, but Killian couldn't find it in himself to care. It had only been a couple of weeks since he'd found the man sneaking in the back door of the pawn shop, and although he barely remembered the details of that day, the other confrontations he'd had with August, about making Emma believe, were unforgettable. As was the fact that August had taken Emma out of Storybrooke for only an hour and she'd called him in tears.

"That's all I needed to know." Killian said coolly, pushing away from the wall and crossing the short distance to the exit. "If you  _do_ see anything suspicious, I'm sure Emma would appreciate a call."

August scoffed, only speaking again once Killian had stepped through the door, out of the trailer. "Are you going to tell Emma you saw me?" For a moment, Killian considered telling him yes and walking away. He almost did, but then August spoke again, his voice a quiet mumble. "I don't know if I want her to know. If I'd kept my promises, if I'd watched for her, I wouldn't look like this."

Killian inhaled deeply, unable to simply leave when August was so clearly miserable. "I'm not going to lie to her." He answered simply. "If she doesn't ask, then I won't tell her. If she does want to know if I found anything during my search, I'm telling her the truth. I can't promise anything more."

He didn't hesitate any longer. Killian strode away from the trailer, letting the thin door slam shut behind him. He called Emma when he was only metres away from the trailer, not intending to tell her about August but eager to know if they'd finished meeting with the Crocodile.

"He's being difficult." Emma said in response to his query. "So no. Did you find any evidence that might help?"

"Nothing that might help us find out who killed Aurora."

Emma sighed loudly. He could picture her grimacing, her shoulders slumping slightly, and he wished he  _had_ found something, no matter how unpleasant a revelation it led to. "Great. Well, if you're done in the forest, do you mind looking for Regina? David can't find her, and I've been a bit busy maneuvering myself out of making another deal with Rumplestiltskin."

"Another?"

"I'll explain when you're home." She said quickly. "Just, you know Regina better than any of us. If you can find her, just… well, she'd appear less guilty if she hadn't gone missing."

Killian chuckled and agreed, a soft smile crossing his face when she thanked him. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, definitely." She said in farewell. "I mean, Mary-Margaret's insisting on cooking dinner so that we all remember to eat, and you're definitely invited. Hopefully, we'll have found enough so that we can spend some time together before then, but if not, show up at the loft at six and you'll get food."

~~~*~~~

Belle had joined Killian at the cemetery after he called to cancel their lunch, insisting that she wanted to help, and he'd not been inclined to dissuade her. There was something offputting about the rows of empty graves that made up the Storybrooke cemetery, the only true grave belonging to Graham, so Killian hadn't wanted to complain about someone accompanying him on his search.

They had paused in their investigation when Belle revealed she'd brought lunch, the two of them eating sandwiches as they discussed whether or not Regina was involved with Aurora's demise. Belle seemed to believe that Regina wasn't involved, and as much as Killian would have liked to agree, he couldn't forget that Regina had attempted to kill him, Emma and David.

Even after venturing into Regina's vault, they had been unsuccessful at locating the witch. The different rooms under the mausoleum all seemed empty, and eventually Killian had resigned himself to the fact that if Regina didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.

It was nearing six when he knocked on the door of Emma and Mary-Margaret's apartment, wishing he had anything useful to tell Emma. She looked exhausted when she opened the door to him, but after he smiled at her, she appeared to brighten up.

"You're just in time." She muttered, taking his hand and pulling him in for a quick kiss in greeting. "Mary-Margaret's made pasta."

The dining table was covered in papers, so David and Henry seemed to have decided to eat in front of the television. Emma had delved into fairy tale books from the library, several lying open on the table, as well as asking various regulars at Granny's diner if they'd seen anything, but it seemed as though she'd been as unsuccessful as Killian.

Mary-Margaret fussed over both him and Emma the way she would have done before the curse broke, serving their meal from the pan of pasta, although she seemed less enthused by his presence than she would have been. With their meals in hand, Killian sat beside Emma on the empty couch, and, for a while, the conversation was steered away from Aurora's murder.

Henry told them of his day, and it sounded as though the school was in as much disarray as the rest of the town. Only a handful of teachers had returned to work after remembering themselves, and the school was still trying to organise the curriculum and the classes after the sudden changes.

Without Aurora's murder weighing on them, it would have been a nice evening, exactly the sort of evening he had always hoped to share with Emma and her family. After eating, Emma and him took care of the dishes as David attempted to connect Emma's old DVD player to the television. Mary-Margaret and Henry were discussing what film to watch and had settled on the first Harry Potter film by the time the dishes were clean and stored away.

"I've seen this so many times. You guys enjoy it though." Emma said when David tried to cajole her into joining them. She gave Henry a kiss to the forehead and then retreated to the dining table, a loud sigh falling from her lips the instant she started to read the reports.

Killian joined her at the dining table, moving his chair so it was next to hers and then slipping his arm around her shoulders. She smiled briefly up at him, although the expression faded as soon as she glanced down at the reports.

"Why do you think Regina's involved?" He asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the movie. "I didn't see anything that indicated she might be behind it?"

Emma shrugged, gesturing at a sheet of paper covered in David's scratchy handwriting. "I'm not sure if she is, but David thought she was worth investigating. And, you know, her last minute change- of-heart may have saved us from whatever her and Rumplestiltskin planned to do, but she still tried to kill us only two days ago. I don't know if I'm ready to give her the benefit of the doubt just yet."

"Regina and I have our differences, but yesterday, you decided that she could spend time with Henry." Killian pointed out. "I can't imagine she'd jeopardise that so quickly."

"Either way, disappearing after David spoke to her doesn't like make her look innocent." Emma grumbled. "You really didn't find  _anything_ in the forest?"

"Like I said, nothing useful." He told her with a shrug, watching as she shuffled through the papers as though that would lead to a sudden epiphany.

"Which means you found something." She said, one eyebrow raised . "Don't try and talk your way around the question."

"I'm not trying to hide anything." He promised in a low whisper. "I found August in the forest. I told him I wouldn't tell you about him unless you asked. He didn't want you to know that he was hiding out in a trailer."

"Why?"

"Well, I don't know him as well as you, but I'd wager it's something to do with the fact that he's a walking puppet. Wood and all." Emma stared at him for a moment and then seemed to accept his words. "He's staying in a trailer near the town line. He didn't see anything that might help us solve this."

Emma grimaced, but seemed too distracted by the paperwork to ask any further questions. Killian tried to help, reading through different reports when he wasn't preoccupied by the movie. At one point, Emma told him to go and join the others, but she had one hand holding his and he was always going to choose a seat beside Emma over a more comfortable couch with a better view of the screen.

Harry and his friends were in the Forbidden Forest with Malfoy when Emma groaned in frustration, slamming the sheets of paper down onto the table and running her hand across her face. "Aurora helped us in the Enchanted Forest and we can't find  _anything_ to find out who did this to her?" She whispered angrily. "Why did I think becoming Sheriff was a good idea? Or why didn't someone else take over now that I'm totally unequipped to deal with anything that happens in this town?"

"You've been back three days, Swan.  _Everyone's_ still adjusting to this." He murmured. "You're just as capable a Sheriff as you were before. It's just going to take sometime to get used to the way things are now."

"Just as capable?" She repeated with a bitter laugh. "You do remember the case of the mysterious heart in a jewellery box that I never managed to solve, right? Kathryn may not have died but we never managed to figure out who did."

"You couldn't figure out who  _did_  because it was most likely one of Regina's many hearts. One belonging to someone who died before the curse and wasn't brought over with it." He told her. Emma rolled her eyes, but she did seem less tense than she had moments before. "Everything else, you solved. Trust me, Swan, you can  _do_ this. It just might take a little longer than you'd like."

She mumbled something about Mary-Margaret's case and Jefferson being the only reason she solved it, but Killian repeated his reassurances. She took in a shaky breath and then nodded, twisting in her seat to lean forward and slide her lips over his, her grip on his hand tightening when he reciprocated. He shuffled closer, his hook rising to tangle in her hair, the sound of whatever was going on in the room fading away as he focused entirely on Emma.

"We're trying to watch a film here!" David's incredulous exclamation was enough to make Killian pull back, and he couldn't hide a smirk at the irritation clear on the other man's face. Henry was grinning, but Emma seemed embarrassed, shaking her head and concentrating on the paperwork again, her fingers still laced with Killian's.

"You could only see us because you were looking our way." Killian pointed out with a laugh. "If you really want to see the ending, perhaps looking at the screen would help with that?"

David chuckled, shook his head and looked away, relaxing back against the couch as Mary-Margaret nestled closer to him. Soon after, Killian managed to persuade Emma to abandon the investigation, if only for the last half hour of the film, telling her that things might seem clearer after she'd taken a break and looked at the information with fresh eye. She rolled her eyes again but acquiesced, and soon they were sat on the spare couch, their position mirroring David and Mary-Margaret's.

Emma turned her head slightly, her lips pressing against his shoulder for only a moment, and Killian couldn't hide his smile.

~~~*~~~

Killian woke the following morning in Emma's bed, her blanket tangled in his legs and his entire body sprawled across the mattress. He hadn't intended to sleep there the whole night, not when Emma shared her room with Henry, but despite Emma's promise that she'd wake him when she was ready to go to bed, it was early morning and instead of being nudged awake, the light had woken him and Emma was nowhere in sight.

He took care not to wake Henry as he walked passed the boys' bed to reach the stairs, an exasperated sigh falling from his lips when he saw Emma lying across the couch, a cup of coffee in one hand and what looked like a picture of the crime in the other.

"Have you slept?" He asked, lifting up her legs so he could join her, his thumb rubbing light circles on her thigh once her legs were resting on his. "I told you to wake me when you wanted to sleep so you could have your bed and I'd have the couch."

"Couldn't sleep." Emma answered briefly, concentrating on the picture as though she'd suddenly find all the answers in it. "I've had a lot of coffee."

She took another sip of her drink and then Killian reached out to take the cup from her. "You should sleep." He muttered, aware of the three others sleeping in the apartment and not wanting to wake them. "I remember how exhausted you were with the Kathryn case and I'd hate to see that again."

Emma bit her lip, glancing quickly up the stairs to her bedroom and then she shrugged and dropped the photograph to the floor. He expected her to leave, but instead, she simply shuffled along the couch so she was almost sitting on his lap and then rested her head against his shoulder.

"Just an hour." She told him, nuzzling closer when Killian started to play with her hair, his hooked arm wrapped around her waist. "Don't forget to wake me."

He didn't need to. Barely fifteen minutes after she'd curled up against him, her breath only just starting to slow with sleep, Henry thundered down the stairs. The lad had a grimace on his face, his hand clutching at his wrist. "Mom?"

"Henry, she's… are you alright, Henry?"

Emma stirred before he could explain that she was finally resting, tilting her head curiously at her son. Henry shrugged instead of answering, but one tired, expectant look from Emma was enough to make him drop his hand from his wrist and hold his arm out towards them. The skin of his arm was mottled red, a few blisters on the wound. Emma leapt away from Killian to hurry over to her son, leading him over to the kitchen sink and running cold water over the burn.

"How did this happen?" She asked anxiously, leaving Killian at Henry's side as she rummaged through the kitchen drawers in search of something. "In bed?"

"When I dream of the… Grandma called it the Netherworld? There's fire. It caught me." He told them, shaking his other arm until his sleeve fell to his elbow, revealing another burn, this one pink and shiny and older.

"You were there last night?" Emma confirmed, placing a roll of plastic wrap on the counter, before leaning her elbows on the counter and watching the water sluice over Henry's arm.

"Yeah." He answered, suddenly turning to face his mother with wide eyes. "Yeah, and Aurora was too."

"Aurora?" Emma glanced questioningly at Killian, but he had no explanation he could give her. "You sure? I didn't think, well, I didn't think she'd still be there."

"I told her that. She said she hadn't slept the last two nights, not properly, because her and Mulan were looking after Phillip." Henry said quickly. "She said she didn't come here. She said Phillip had been hurt by Cora, but they were all safe because after you did your magic thing and the portal closed, Cora wasn't there anymore. She wanted to know if you'd made it back."

"She's still in the Enchanted Forest?" Emma said, her horrified gaze meeting Killian's when the same realisation dawned on each of them. "And Cora was gone? That means.. God, we should have checked. We  _knew_ Cora could do this! Why were we so  _stupid_?"

"Does that mean Cora's dead?" Henry asked. "If it's not Aurora?"

"Nothing's ever that easy." Emma grumbled. "Cora's magical, right? She wanted to get to Storybrooke and she wasn't going to pretend to be Aurora forever. I mean, we didn't know Aurora well, but she'd have slipped up eventually. We found Aurora's body so that she could slip off and cause trouble."

"If the body wasn't Aurora and it wasn't Cora, then who was it?" Killian questioned, regretting his words the instant Emma grimaced and looked back over at the pile of paperwork strewn across the room.

"Whoever it is, at least we know what happened to them. And as soon as we hear about a missing person, that gives us a place to start." Emma said. "Finding Cora might be a bit more difficult."

"Wait." Henry interrupted their conversation, a panicked glint to his eyes as he glanced between them. "What about my mom?"

"Cora being here and Regina going missing aren't great things to have happened at the same time." Emma told Henry, a sympathetic curve to her lips when Henry sighed.

"I'd wager they're either having a touching family reunion, or things are still standing the way they were before the curse." Killian "If that's the case, that means we have two witches in Storybrooke eager to kill one another and that's not going to turn out well for anyone."

Henry looked horrified. Emma shook her head at Killian and then concentrated on her son. She turned off the tap and dried his arm, putting a cool, damp cloth over the burn before sitting him in front of the television and telling him that he wasn't going to school that day.

Leaving her son watching an episode of something called Friends, she took Killian by the arm and led him up to her room. They sat on the end of the bed, Killian's arm around her shoulder. He couldn't think of anything comforting to say, not when he knew first-hand just what the two Queens were willing to do to one another.

"Henry's probably in the most danger. I don't know exactly what Cora wants, but if she wants anything from Regina, Henry's the way to get that." Emma stated. "I don't even know what to do."

"We can keep him safe." Killian promised. "We know Cora's here and we know he's in danger. That's more than we knew yesterday."

She smiled weakly, the grin fading almost instantly as she nudged her shoulder against his. "You're in danger too. You've doubled-crossed how many out of two? Two, right?"

Killian hadn't even considered that Cora and Regina might attempt to hurt him, not after realising the trouble Henry could be in, but he appreciated Emma's concern. "I won't be their top priority. Don't worry."

"Okay. Right. We need to figure out what to do." She nodded, rubbed her hands together and stood from the bed. With her hands on her hips, she turned to face him and Killian couldn't hide his grin. As terrible as Cora's presence in Storybrooke was, it was nice to see her acting decisively again, as though the magic in Storybrooke was something she knew she could cope with.

Killian had always been confident she could, but it was wonderful to see Emma displaying the same certainty. "What's your plan? I know you have one."

"Not much of one. We wake up David and Mary-Margaret, maybe ask Ruby to stay with Henry, and then you and David can go check Regina's vault again, in case you missed something because you didn't know about Cora. Mary-Margaret and I will make sure the town knows that  _something's_ going on and see if we can get them to call the station if they see anything strange. I guess they need to know that we're willing to deal with the magical stuff too. If that still leaves us with nothing, we sit down tonight and we think things through again."

He couldn't think of a better plan, not with their lack of information, and he told her as much. She smiled again, this time more brightly. They returned downstairs, turning up the volume of the television to wake up David and Mary-Margaret, and then he watched Emma tend to Henry, replacing the cloth with a layer of cling-film. Once she was done, she gave her son a quick hug, her hold on him loosening when Henry spoke up.

"Everything's going to be okay. I know it." Henry said confidently.. "You broke the curse. You can stop Cora."

When Emma looked from her son to Killian, he thought that, for a moment, she believed it.

~~~*~~~

To everyone's disappointment, they'd found no sign of Cora that day and there was a solemn air surrounding them when they all sat down for dinner that evening. The five of them had barely spoken as they ate, only talking to inform the others of what they'd done that day.

David and Killian hadn't been able to tell if there was anything out of place in Regina's vault, unable to identify most of the things she had stored there, and even though Emma had sent a text to Regina promising her time with Henry, they hadn't heard from the mayor at all.

It seemed that both women were very adept at hiding, and the only thing had persuaded Emma to take a break from searching and finally sleep was David promising to meet up with Leroy and the other dwarves and keep looking.

So, by early evening, Emma was fast asleep on the couch, her head on Killian's shoulder, as Killian taught Henry the basics of Blackjack. Henry wasn't as cheerful as usual, although Killian could hardly blame him for that. It was only when David was back home, Henry in bed and the hour-hand of the clock pointing to twelve that Killian started to consider carrying Emma up to her bed and using the couch himself.

He didn't get the opportunity as Emma's phone started to trill, vibrating on the arm of the couch, the noise causing Emma to stir in his arms. Killian reached for the phone, intending to silence it and let her rest, but the called was the Sheriff station, which meant that whoever was calling so late needed something.

Killian answered the phone before he had really thought his actions through. "Storybrooke Sheriff Department?" He said in greeting, keeping his voice as quiet as he could. "Can I help?"

Whoever was calling refused to name themselves, but with Cora on the loose, Killian felt he couldn't ignore their claims that they had seen something strange near the town line. After carefully adjusting Emma's position on the sofa and draping a blanket over her, he left a note about where he was going on the coffee table and hurried from the apartment.

It took just longer than half an hour to reach the red line painted across the road out of Storybrooke, but there was nothing there except for the 'You are now leaving Storybrooke' sign. If Cora had been there, he couldn't tell.

He called Emma, intending to leave a message in case her restless sleep meant she woke before he returned, a scowl creasing his eyebrows when Emma picked up. "Hey." She said, her voice thick with sleep. "Where did you go?"

"Did you just wake up? I left a note." He muttered. "Someone called the Sheriff station to report something happening near the town line. I figured I'd check it out and let you sleep. There's nothing here though, so I'll be back at the loft shortly."

Emma murmured something about being cold without him there, but the phone call ended after that, Emma hanging up with a yawn.

"I'm glad you came alone." Killian spun around at the voice, catching sight of wisps of red smoke dispersing from around Rumplestiltskin. The Crocodile was standing in the center of the road, a cruel smirk on his face and Milah's shawl around his shoulders. "I wanted to talk to you."

"You called." Killian stated bitterly. "Were you watching and waiting until I was the only one awake? What do you  _want_?"

"Like I said, I want to talk." Rumplestiltskin said. "I want to talk about you and Belle. I want you to explain why she spoke to you and then told me that as much as she loved me, it wasn't the right time to consider being together."

"As much as you want to blame me for your relationship troubles, Belle made that decision alone." Killian told him, smirking when he saw the Dark One's expression turn furious. "Despite what you seem to think, the women you love are more than capable of making their own choices without my input."

"Milah left because of  _you_." Rumplestiltskin spat. "You stole her away. Without  _your_ input, she'd never have left."

Killian didn't have the time to recount the same argument, even with the fury that Rumplestiltskin's words had triggered, so he just scoffed and attempted to walk away. He barely made it a step, the air in front of him feeling like a wall, keeping him between Rumplestiltskin and the town line.

"How dare you!" He snarled, struggling to move closer to the Crocodile. Rumplestiltskin giggled at his failure to reach him, the cruel side making Killian even more furious. "How dare you stand there, wearing the shawl she made, and claim that Milah wasn't brave enough to leave you. She didn't need to be stolen away. She  _couldn't_ have been stolen away. She made a choice. It wasn't a choice that worked out well for you, but it was her choice to make."

The ugly expression on Rumplestiltskin's face was dangerous, and Killian couldn't stop himself from taking a step back when the Crocodile moved towards him. "Milah was selfish."

"No." Killian denied, clenching his fist. "Milah spent years trying to be the wife and mother you wanted her to be. You were too stubborn and proud and  _cowardly_  to try and find a life away from being the village coward, no matter what that meant for your family. She tried so hard for you but you never listened to what she wanted. And when she finally had the life she wanted, you killed her."

"She abandoned me. She abandoned Bae." Rumplestiltskin roared, and whatever hopes Killian had of returning home to Emma unharmed vanished completely.

For a moment, with the darkness surrounding them, Killian could almost believe Rumplestiltskin looked like the reptilian monster he'd been back in the Enchanted Forest. There was the same dangerous air surrounding him, and just like before killing Milah, Killian was certain he was going to something but he didn't know what.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked, unable to stop himself from sending Rumplestiltskin a taunting grin. "Your last attempt failed, remember?"

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to make you forget." There was light suddenly, highlighting Rumplestiltskin's curled lip and triumphant expression. "Let's see how you feel once you've had everything taken from you."

Killian couldn't move or fight back, not with Rumplestiltskin's magic holding him in place. The light grew brighter, the shadows of Rumplestiltskin's face highlighting his anger. Killian twisted his head to search for the source of the light, only catching a glimpse of approaching headlights before he felt as though the wall of air in front of him was shoving him backwards. The weight was too strong to resist, his feet skidding back across the red townline.

He saw Rumplestiltskin vanish in a puff of smoke, felt something smash into him, pain exploding through him and then he knew nothing.

**End of Part 2**


	33. Chapter 33

**Part 3**

**Chapter 33**

Emma hadn't been able to sleep after Killian's phone call, had laid awake with her eyes open and fixed on the time until half an hour had passed and he still wasn't back. She didn't want to wait any longer, not with Cora somewhere in town, and within ten minutes, she had roused David and the two of them were sat in his truck and rumbling towards the town line.

"Are you sure he's not just a slow walker?" David asked, as though there was nothing to worry about.

She didn't answer, staring out the window and looking for any sign of Killian. Even if he had been walking slower than usual, forty minutes was more than enough time to get into Storybrooke, but they hadn't passed him.

What if they reached the town line and he wasn't there? Emma shuddered at the thought, not wanting to think about what might have happened if he was gone. Her dread worsened with each metre closer to the town border, sure that the only reason he wouldn't have returned would be that he couldn't.

"He shouldn't have gone alone," she muttered angrily, leaning her forehead against the cool window and watching her breath fog against the glass. "God, he shouldn't have picked up my phone in the first place! What if he's-"

"It's only twenty minutes later than he should have arrived." David replied quickly. "He's not missing. I'm sure he's just distracted by something. He'll be back at the loft soon and everything will be fine."

"I know he's hurt." Emma hadn't wanted to admit it out loud. It was just a hunch, it wasn't as if she had any evidence, but she'd felt uneasy only minutes after Killian had called her and that had blossomed into total certainty that, wherever he was, he was in pain. "I just know."

She heard David exhale heavily and then he took his hand off the steering wheel to pat hers reassuringly. "If that's true, then we'll find him and we'll make sure he gets better. I'm not going to let you lose him."

All she could manage in response was a shaky smile. "I shouldn't have slept. I should have been awake to answer the phone and I should have gone to the townline. It's  _my_  job, after all."

"If you'd answered, maybe you'd have gone and maybe you would be the one who was hurt."

"That would be better," she mumbled, still gazing out the window. "At least I wouldn't feel so worried."

"Better?"

"He's my boyfriend. I want him safe." It wasn't exactly new information, although David still looked slightly surprised. She'd been making a point to call Killian her boyfriend since what she called the beanstalk disaster, since she'd become aware of just how much she cared for him. "Or at least, as safe as you can be in this place."

It didn't look like David knew what to say to that. Instead of speaking, he just drove faster.

Emma felt as though she couldn't breathe once she could see the chaos at the townline. Her chest was tight, each breath quick and shaky, and when the truck drew to a stop, it took her a moment to leave the vehicle. She didn't want to leave, didn't want to know what had happened in case it made everything too difficult, but she couldn't hesitate when it was Killian in trouble.

She only spared a quick glance at the smoking car folded against the welcome sign as she hurried towards the unmoving black figure lying just on the other side of the red line.

"Killian?" Emma cried, ignoring her father's cry of warning as she ran across the town line and fell to her knees next to him. "Oh, God, Killian."

She had to turn him towards her in order to see his face, and the sight of him tore a sob from her throat. There was so much blood. The just-healed scratches on his face had been reopened, as well as there being several new grazes on his forehead and along his cheekbones. She just hoped that it looked worse than it was, the face always bled more, but it was hard to reassure herself when he wasn't conscious.

"David, call the ambulance." she ordered, only vaguely hearing David obey because she was too busy running her hands over Killian in case he was bleeding anywhere else. "Tell them to hurry."

She couldn't stop touching him, as though she'd lose him if she lost contact with him for even a second, her hand brushing his hair out of his face, caressing his cheek. When she bent to brush a light kiss to his forehead, he woke with a gasp just before her lips touched him and she could do nothing but sob in relief, especially when his hand seemed to seek out hers.

Killian didn't seem aware of where he was, looking around frantically and breathing in short, sharp breaths that made him wince in pain, his grip on her hand tightening. "What's happened?" he asked hoarsely. "Where am I? I don't-"

"Shhh." Emma murmured, stroking his head with her free hand and smiling down at him, even though smiling was the last thing she felt like doing. "It'll be okay. We'll get you to the hospital. Everything will be fine. Just stay still."

She didn't know if he'd heard her, not when he was struggling to sit up, but for just a second their eyes met and it seemed to calm him, their joined hands resting against his ribs as he lay back down on the road.

"The ambulance is on the way." David told her and Emma reluctantly turned away from Killian to face him. He was standing with his toes against the painted red line, a scowl on his face. "Emma, you're going to need to bring him back across the line. I can't help you and the EMTs won't be able to reach him either."

"I don't know if I should move him." she muttered, swallowing down another sob when she turned back to Killian and saw he was unconscious again. "I don't know where he's hurt. If it's his back then I'm pretty certain I'm supposed to keep him still."

"Well, sure, you can keep him still but he won't be getting to the hospital." David pointed out. "Do you think you  _can_ move him?"

She had never been more grateful that Storybrooke was small town, not until she saw the flashing lights of the ambulance approaching after only a few minutes. She moved Killian then, grasping hold of his ankles and pulling him carefully across the short distance back into Storybrooke.

Emma insisted that the paramedics attend to Killian first, David putting his arm around her shoulder and holding her close as she watched them lift Killian onto a stretcher and roll him into the ambulance. When it became clear that the other casualty of the crash needed to be cut out of the car, the EMTs called for another ambulance and prepared to take Killian back to Storybrooke General.

"Go with him." David urged, leading Emma towards the ambulance and then pushing her towards Killian. "And don't try to argue that you want to stay here and do your job. You want to be with him and I am more than capable of staying with Mr Pennsylvania until the second ambulance gets here."

She managed a quick, thankful smile and clambered into the back of the ambulance, sitting beside Killian and taking his hand in hers. "You know, David, even if he flew over the car after it hit him, he was too far past the town line to have been in Storybrooke when he got hit.  _Someone_ pushed him over first." She stated angrily. "When we find Cora, I'm going to kill her."

"What?"

The ambulance door closed before she could respond, not that she intended to say anything anyway. In that moment, with Killian lying prone on the bed, his face grazed and bleeding, each slight movement making him wince, she had meant every word.

~~~*~~~

Emma insisted on staying with Killian as he was wheeled into the ER, although she had to drop his hand when the hospital staff swarmed around him. It had been less than two weeks since she'd run through the hospital at Henry's side, desperate to save him, and although the worry she felt was nowhere close to what she'd felt with her son's life in danger, she was more concerned about Killian than she could ever have expected.

Her chest felt too tight, something she thought wouldn't go away until she was certain he'd be okay. It didn't help that the first things the doctors had done was put a neck brace on him before attaching him to a drip and to oxygen.

Even if she had somehow managed to persuade herself that he was alright, that delusion would have been forced away as soon as she looked at him. He looked smaller somehow, with the doctors crowding around him, and she hated it. She had wanted him to go to hospital, to have his collarbone looked it, and it was a foolish thought, but she couldn't stop herself from wondering if wanting that had somehow led to this.

"He's not conscious, but his pupils are responding to light." One doctor had left the group to speak to her, and as comforting as woman's smile should have been, Emma didn't feel reassured. She couldn't. "In his state, that's a good thing. We thinks he's broken a few ribs and there's a good chance his legs broken after an accident like this. We can x-ray him here, but we'd like to organise a CAT scan for later."

"Yeah. Of course." Emma agreed distractedly, still watching him being attended to. "Whatever he needs."

She had to leave the room after they wheeled in the x-ray, something about radiation. When she stepped into the hallway, she was surprised to see Mary-Margaret standing there, Leroy and Ruby either side of her.

"Emma?" Emma grimaced, unsure what to do when Mary-Margaret rushed towards her and wrapped her in a hug, one that Emma didn't return. "David called and told me what happened. I thought you might… well, Emma, I hoped you might need me."

"David isn't here yet?" Emma asked, pulling out of Mary-Margaret's embrace. She couldn't cope with her friend's concern. It just made everything worse, heavier. "Why not?"

"He's on the way." Mary-Margaret told her. "It just took a bit longer to cut Storybrooke's newest visitor from his car than they had hoped."

"Right."

"Everything's going to be okay." Mary-Margaret said gently, carefully placing a hand on Emma's shoulder. "I believe it. So should you."

"I'm not interested in hoping right now." Emma muttered. What she was interested in was returning to Killian's side, and she just wanted the doctor to step out of the room and tell her that things were alright and she could see him. "Thanks for coming and everything, but I don't want to talk."

She clenched her jaw and looked away, slightly guilty over how she had made Mary-Margaret's expression fall.

Except then the doctor told her she could come back into the room, and she didn't think twice about walking away from the others.

"How is he then?" She asked, striding past the few doctors still at his bedside so that she was beside him. "He's going to be fine?"

"He's got three broken ribs and a fractured collarbone and luckily, despite the state of his legs, they're not broken. Just badly bruised." The same doctor who had spoken to her before was at her side, a file in her hand. "Those injuries will heal. Unfortunately, we can't tell you that he's going to be fine until we know why he isn't waking up."

"But that's why you're doing a CAT scan, right?" Emma asked, gently brushing her fingers through his hair."To find out?"

"We'll book him in for the scan and we'll have the nurses move him into a ward." The doctor informed her. "When he wakes up, I'll let you know."

"Thanks."

The doctors left him then, most of them being called to assist with the hospital's new arrival. She supposed that meant David and the driver had finally arrived, but she didn't go to see them. Not yet.

There wasn't much point waiting with him, not with him unconscious, and she supposed she had more to do than stay at her boyfriend's side. As Sheriff, she was more involved than she wanted to be, and as much as she wished otherwise, she had to go and talk with David and see what they knew about the man that had hit Killian.

She kissed him on the forehead before walking away, a lingering kiss that he didn't respond to, and strode back out the room.

David had joined the others in the corridor, but he, at least, seemed to get that she really didn't want to talk. He just nodded at her before talking with Leroy and Ruby, the three of them hissing an argument at one another.

"How is he?" Mary-Margaret asked warily. "How are  _you_?"

"He has a few broken bones but nothing that won't heal. He should be fine. Maybe." Emma's voice faltered slightly, and Mary-Margaret sighed, wrapped her arm around Emma's shoulder. "If he wakes up, he should be fine."

"You found Hook across the town line, right?" Leroy interrupted loudly. "He's probably out of it because he crossed it. Sneezy blacked out for a bit after crossing and then woke up as Mr Clark. When Hook wakes up, I don't think he'll be the guy he was when he crossed it."

"He's going to be  _fine_." Emma snapped, shrugging away from Mary-Margaret and stepping towards the dwarf. "He'll remember. He was never anyone else."

"Then why isn't he awake?"

"He was hit by a car!" Her voice caught when she said the words out loud, the realisation of what had happened only just striking her. She took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm herself, but suddenly there were too many people looking at her as though they expected her to start crying. "Mary-Margaret? Who's with Henry?"

"Belle." Mary-Margaret answered. "She was awake when I called, so I told her she could sleep at the loft so Henry isn't alone. If she even sleeps now that she knows why we had to leave."

"Okay. That's good." Emma muttered stiffly. "I'm just going to… I need a moment, okay? If anything happens, with Killian or with the son of a bitch who hit him, find me."

Mary-Margaret seemed to want to go with her and play the role of comforting mother, but Emma shook her head and the other woman hesitated just long enough for David to take her hand and keep her in place.

She left the hospital with her arms stiffly at her side and her head bowed. She didn't want to run, but she couldn't stay there, not with David, Mary-Margaret, Ruby and even Leroy watching her every move as though she was about to break. She'd spent her entire life without anyone even caring what she was feeling, and she didn't know what to do when there were people who did.

And everything felt even worse because she  _did_ want someone there to hold her and tell her things would be okay. She'd let Killian in too much to deny that she wanted him to comfort her the way he had before, embracing her as she sobbed over Henry. But it couldn't be him. Not when  _he_  was the one she was crying over.

So Emma covered her face with her hands and cried alone.

~~~*~~~

Emma had calmed down by the time David found her. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything, but when she nodded at him, he came to her side and let her rest her head against her shoulder, his head cradling the side of her head.

She was surprisingly comfortable with David. The curse breaking had returned his memory but unlike others, it hadn't altered his personality enough to make her uneasy around him. And he seemed to know what would be too much for her, never bringing up how he was her father and instead, just trying to be there for her.

Even when they'd been in the Enchanted Forest, in what would have been her nursery, he hadn't said anything. She'd watched him pick up various toys and run his fingers along the frame of her crib with a quiet sadness and it had been then that she'd accepted the truth that Henry had told her. That David and Mary-Margaret were her parents.

"I tried to give you as much time as I could." David said eventually. "But with this new guy in town, we can't wait too long."

"Yeah." Emma agreed. "I guess not. You know anything about him?"

"Well, I asked Leroy to check his phone but-"

"Leroy?"

David looked sheepish. "Turns out that computer hacking isn't what I thought it was."

She actually laughed, and when she turned her head to see David's expression, he was smiling fondly at her. "I don't know what you thought it was, but Leroy and his pick-axe won't be too helpful. I have something on my keychain that I just need to plug into the phone and we'll get what we need. Do you really have  _nothing_?"

"I know his name. Greg Mendell." David admitted, leading her back into the hospital. "I checked his car when they were busy loading him into the ambulance. He has a few maps and rental agreements, but no more information than that."

She joined the others, snatching the phone from Leroy's hand and plugging the device into it, watching a few lines of code flash across the screen before clearing to the main screen of the phone. She flicked through the different apps, the other four peering over her shoulder as she looked for any clue why the man was in Storybrooke.

"There are pictures of him, alone, at a bunch of Eastern Seaboard tourist locations, a LinkedIn account and a twitter that's full of pictures of his food." She stated as she thumbed passed yet another photo of a seafood platter. "I'll keep looking, but from this, I think what we have here is a just a well-documented, real-life, ordinary Joe. Or Greg."

Her words didn't seem to reassure anyone. Leroy swore under his breath, ignoring Mary-Margaret's half-hearted reprimand, and Ruby shook her head, her words panicked. "So, whatever's kept random people from stumbling into Storybrooke for the last twenty-eight years-"

"Is gone." Mary-Margaret finished. "Anyone could drive in. That can't be good."

"No. It can't." Leroy snapped. "You've seen ET, or Splash, or any other movie where someone finds something magical and it then gets  _studied_ to death? What do you think they'll do to a werewolf?"

"Oh, and his friends and family?" Mary-Margaret's voice was increasing in pitch, her eyes wide. David took her hand and after a deep breath, she seemed to calm down. "They're going to come looking for him soon. We don't need outsiders here, Emma."

"Well, right now, outsiders aren't our top priority." Emma protested. "We have other things to think about."

"Your boyfriend?" Leroy asked with a roll of his eyes. "Come on, lady."

"No. Cora." Emma bit out, scowling at the dwarf. "Yeah, having Greg here isn't ideal, but whatever he can do is nothing compared to what Cora's capable of. We have  _no_ idea where she is, and we  _need_ to find her."

"That's true." Mary-Margaret said slowly. "Especially when she might be with Regina. I don't even want to think about the damage the two of them could do together. But Emma, doesn't that just make it even more important to get Greg away from here? We can't have him here if Cora and Regina decide to make a move."

"It doesn't matter. He's being patched up right now." Emma said. "He'll probably be on his way home by morning."

"By morning?" David repeated, one eyebrow raised. "Come on, Emma! He was worse than Killian when the ambulance arrived. I can't see him being sent back home in only a few hours."

"You're right about that." Dr Whale had found them. He looked slightly distant, and he smelled unmistakably of alcohol, something that made Emma especially glad that Killian didn't need surgery. "He's bleeding into his chest cavity. It's not a full flood, you know. But, pretty soon, he'll be drowning in his own blood."

"So make it stop." David ordered, sharing a confused glance with Emma and his wife. "Isn't that what doctors do?"

Dr Whale looked at the group and then shrugged, avoiding their gaze as he fiddled with his tie. "We don't want him here? Look… letting him die is easy. I can do that, if that's what you decide."

Everyone was gaping at the doctor, and although Emma had to admit the idea sounded tempting after what had happened, she couldn't believe anyone had actually suggested it. And in public. "Okay, let's take this somewhere a bit more private."

~~~*~~~

The six of them had actually _argued_ over Whale's suggestion. Leroy, in particular, was in favour of the idea, but they'd eventually decided that they couldn't allow someone to die 'just in case' they might lead others to the town. David had sent the doctor to save them with a few stern words and an instruction to stop drinking, although Emma thought Whale was already far past the point where he should be allowed to operate on anyone.

But with Greg Mendell's phone ringing, they had a bit more to worry about than Dr Whale. Emma had had to talk the others down from answering, and then they'd all returned to the Waiting Room. She hadn't remained there long. A nurse rushed over to Emma as soon as they were back in public, and Emma felt her heart in her throat when the nurse told her Killian was awake.

She wanted desperately to see him, but Leroy's words weighed on her. Emma didn't know what she'd do if she walked into the room to find out Leroy had been  _right_ , that Killian had been replaced with some cursed persona, but she wasn't going to pace through the corridors nervously.

Whatever was happening in the ward, Emma didn't think shouting was a good sign. She hurried along the last few feet of the corridor, but when she actually entered the room, she couldn't take another step forward.

Killian seemed to be fighting the nurses, yelling at them to stay away and leave him alone, to explain where he was and how he'd got there. She watched him try to rip the IV from his hand, failing only because he had no other hand to use. He paused, stared at the empty space where his hand should be and then started shouting again.

"Killian?" she asked, raising her voice loud enough to be heard over the commotion. "Killian?"

He fell silent and looked over at her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and she didn't even need to hear his next words to know that things had changed when he crossed the town line.

"Is that me?" The nurses took advantage of Killian's sudden preoccupation with Emma, leaving the two of them alone in the ward. "Killian? Is that my name?"

"You don't remember?"

"I don't remember anything." Killian admitted, looking away from Emma. "Can you please tell me what's going on?"

Emma swallowed and took a step into the room, towards him. She hadn't considered the possibility he'd remember nothing, but it made sense. He'd never had a different identity under the curse, nothing that could take over after stepping across the town line, but Leroy had still been right.

He'd lost himself.

"You're Killian Jones." she said carefully, unable to stop her voice from shaking.

He turned back to face her, watching as she lowered herself into the chair nearest his bedside, its legs screeching as she dragged it along the floor and closer to him. "And who are you?"

"Emma." she told him. Even though part of her knew it was pointless, she searched his eyes for any sign of recognition. There was nothing, his expression blank, and it took a moment before she could speak, her throat too thick with tears. "I'm Emma. You… you were in a car accident, but you're going to be okay."

"Okay?" Killian scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I have no memory and no hand."

She swallowed again. wringing her hands together so that she wouldn't reach out to take his. "You haven't had a hand for a long time."

He nodded and, for a few minutes, Emma watched him examine the end of his arm. His face was bruised but the scratches on his forehead and cheeks looked much better with the blood washed away. His disoriented expression combined with the white hospital gown made him look  _so_  much younger.

Or perhaps it was forgetting his many years alive that had done that.

She wanted to cry again, but she couldn't. Not in front of Killian,  _this_ Killian. She pushed away from his bedside, wanting to run from the ward and from him. She didn't know what to do now that she didn't know him, now he didn't know her, but she knew she didn't want to wait at his side as they shared an awkward silence.

"Emma, have I forgotten you?" He asked, just as she was about to open the door and leave. She sagged forward, her head resting against the door and her hand gripping the handle tightly. She couldn't answer, couldn't voice another word, not when his question had broken her. "Will you come to see me again?"

She knew he was watching her, but it didn't feel like it used to. She fought through her tears to reply, determined to sound as though she was fine. "I'll come to see you every day."

Emma couldn't have given another answer.

The others were still in the waiting room when she finally made it back. Emma had walked as slowly as she could through the white corridors. She knew she couldn't hide her red-rimmed eyes or the tear tracks on her cheeks, but she'd managed to quell her tears before she saw her family.

They seemed to be panicking about something, but she wasn't really listening to whatever they were saying. Discussing Greg Mendell had been a good distraction as she waited for news, but now that she knew just how Killian was, she couldn't think of anything else.

She had spent so long expecting him to leave her, she hadn't even considered losing him another way. Not until she abandoned him. After leaving him on the beanstalk, she had known she didn't  _ever_ want to lose him, a thought she often ignored because it was too much, and even as she drew closer to the group, she was preoccupied with thoughts of what she could have done to save him. Even though it was much too late.

"Dr Whale's run away." Ruby said in greeting. "What are we going to do?"

"Give us a minute, Ruby." Mary-Margaret ordered quietly. Ruby grimaced but did as she was asked, and although Emma shrank away slightly when Mary-Margaret approached, she allowed her mother to hug her. She needed it, needed  _someone_.

"He doesn't remember anything." Emma murmured, feeling Mary-Margaret's arms tighten around her. "Nothing at all."

"Oh, Emma." Mary-Margaret sighed. "I'm so sorry."

Emma raised her arms to return the hug, clinging to the back of Mary-Margaret's cardigan. She only let herself have one minute of comfort, and then she raised her head away from Mary-Margaret's shoulder to fix Leroy with a stare. "You said Sneezy lost his memories? Are you trying to fix it?"

Leroy scowled. "Yeah. The Blue Fairy said she was making something to..."

"Well, you go and tell her to make enough for two. And tell her to make it fast."

~~~*~~~

Emma felt like they'd been waiting at the hospital for hours, first for Ruby to return with Whale and then to hear about the success of Greg's operation. The visitor had survived his crash into Killian and the town sign, but Ruby was desperate to know if he'd seen anything strange upon his arrival, especially with Emma being so certain that Cora had pushed him across the line.

It was true that Greg was dangerous if he had seen anything strange, and after fighting Cora before, Emma knew that if she had been involved in the accident, it was likely magic had been too.

"You guys do know that if anyone comes to this town to experiment on us, I'll be the one they pick." Ruby pointed out. "I mean, they'll probably run tests on the werewolves first."

Whale had been at Ruby's side since successfully operating on Greg and he seemed to take it upon himself to promise Ruby that she wouldn't be experimented at all, not if he could help it, but Emma wasn't paying too much attention to them.

"Okay, so David will question him and find out what he saw." Emma decided. " If he even saw anything."

"Me?" David repeated, glancing around at the others as though she had meant another David. "Wouldn't it be better if the one person who knows what it's like  _outside_ of Storybrooke was the one to talk to him?"

"In any other case, I'd say yes." Emma admitted. "But if I talk to him, there's a chance I'll… I don't know but it'll probably be something a sheriff shouldn't do. I don't want to hear a step-by-step account of what he was doing before he drove into Killian."

"Well, I thought we'd be questioning him together." Mary-Margaret said, standing at her husband's side and taking his hand in hers. "Isn't that the way we do things now?"

Emma shook her head. "We want to be a normal town, remember? I know you've never gotten outside of Storybrooke, but in most places, questioning someone isn't a family event."

Mary-Margaret grimaced and nodded, pushing David on his way and giving him a quick kiss just before he ventured into the hospital. Emma followed after him, catching his arm to stop him once they were a few steps out of the waiting room.

"Whatever he did, don't charge him with anything." Emma told him, swallowing when David scowled at her. "Ruby's right. We want him gone as soon as possible."

"You're really happy to have him just walk away?" David raised an eyebrow knowingly, and when Emma looked away, he reached out to grab her shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm not happy." Emma told him. "Not after what's happened. But the whole town is more important than getting justice for what he did to Killian."

David smiled at her. She couldn't keep her gaze on him for long, not when his grin was proud and  _fatherly_. "I'll make sure to glare at him." He promised. "It's the least I can do." Emma laughed brokenly, her laughter fading away when David took a step towards her and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "Go home and get some rest, okay?"

~~~*~~~

"You were out all night." Henry was sat at the kitchen island with Lacey when Emma finally got back home. "Where were you? Belle wouldn't tell me anything."

Emma didn't answer immediately. She hung up her coat by the door and started to fix herself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, although Lacey took over pretty quickly, bustling around Mary-Margaret's kitchen after leading Emma to the stool beside Henry's. Her every movement felt sluggish, she was  _so_ tired, but she knew she wouldn't manage to fall asleep anytime soon.

"I've been at the hospital." she told Henry. "There was a car accident last night. Killian was… well, he got hit by a car and the driver was injured pretty badly. We didn't know if Dr Frankenstein could fix him, but he managed."

"And Killian?" Lacey asked, pushing the steaming cup of coffee across the island to Emma. "If he wasn't going to be okay, you wouldn't be here, right?"

"I don't know." Emma admitted, turning a soft smile towards her son when she felt him rest his head on her shoulder. She turned her head to give him a grateful kiss on the crown of his head, thankful for his attempts to comfort her. "He fell across the town line somehow, so even though all his injuries will heal, I don't know what's going to happen. He doesn't remember anything."

"Emma, I'm so sorry." Lacey muttered. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not that I can think of." She mumbled. "Thanks for being here last night, by the way. I know it was a very last minute call from Mary-Margaret."

"It's no trouble. I'm happy to help."

Emma shared a smile with the other woman and then started to eat her cereal. She didn't take part in the conversation that Lacey and Henry were having, which was something about Whale not being in the storybook. Instead, she tried not to think of anything, especially not Killian and how he no longer knew her.

She only ate a spoonful of cereal before there was a knock on the door. Emma sighed, but despite her tiredness, she still stood and wandered over to answer it.

"Rumplestiltskin?" The Dark One was the last person Emma expected to see waiting for her, and honestly, she wasn't in the mood to deal with him. He smirked at her in greeting, a chilling glint in his eyes, but Emma just shook her head and tried to slam the door in his face.

The door refused to close.

"How rude, Miss Swan!" Rumplestiltskin drawled. "I only came to talk."

"Yeah, well, I've had a long night." Emma snapped. "I'm not really interested in talking right now."

"What I need to talk to you about isn't something that can wait." He peered over Emma's shoulder, his eyes narrowing when he saw Lacey, and then he plastered an unsettling smile across his face and gestured for Emma to join him in the hallway. "Do you mind if we keep this between us? I wouldn't want to disturb Belle and Henry as they have breakfast."

She frowned, glanced back towards the other two and then, with a weary sigh, stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind her. "What?"

"Do you remember that favour you owe me?"

"No. I owe you  _nothing_." Emma stated. "The deal was that I owed you a favour if you helped me save Henry. You took the love potion and you ran. The deal doesn't count if you don't keep  _your_ end of it."

"The deal was that I told you what to do. Not that I help you do it." Rumplestiltskin hissed. "I know exactly what deals I make, Miss Swan, and you are not going to sidestep your way out of this. You do honour your agreements, don't you?"

Emma stared at him, her lip curling in disdain. "What the hell do you want?"

"I need to find someone, so we're leaving today." he ordered. "Pack your bag."

" _Leaving_?" Emma repeated. "No. It's not a good time. I'm not leaving Storybrooke right now. I can't-"

"Ah yes, the pirate's accident." Rumplestiltskin smirked again. Emma wanted to hit him. "There's not much that happens in this town that I don't know about. I suppose you want to wait for him to recover or some other equally sentimental reason. There isn't time for that.  _This_ is the favour you owe me, and if you don't do it, I'll have to find another price for you to pay."

"What? Are you trying to  _threaten_ me?" Emma bit out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is why you didn't want to come into the loft. You didn't want Lacey to hear you, right?"

"I'm not threatening you." Rumplestiltskin stepped closer to her, his eyes dark and angry. "I'm threatening Hook. Every minute you wait to accompany me is a minute closer to me killing Hook. I can't imagine he's in the condition to fight back."

"You're a  _coward_." Emma spat. "You're the Dark One and yet you still wait until a man's helpless until you threaten him. It's pathetic."

"Half an hour and then we go." Rumplestiltskin snarled. He turned on his heel and started to stride away, pausing when he got to the landing below and staring back up at Emma. "If I have to wait, you might not have a pirate to come home to."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"Do I need a warm coat or do you think we're going somewhere hot?"

Henry was more excited about their trip with Rumplestiltskin than Emma would have liked. He was rifling through the few clothes he had at the loft, a wide grin on his face. Emma was packing less enthusiastically, although she wasn't going to waste a second of her time, not when she was certain that Rumplestiltskin was more than willing to carry out his threats.

"I don't know, kid." She answered, busy searching through her wardrobe. "Pack an outfit for either one. We're not going to be out of Storybrooke for long, so you shouldn't need more than that."

"Really?" Henry sounded slightly crestfallen after her answer. "I've never been further than Boston. I was hoping we'd get to go somewhere cool like… I don't know, Disney World."

"I doubt that's where Rumplestiltskin is taking us." Emma pointed out, turning her head to share an amused glance with Lacey. The other woman was perched on the edge of Emma's bed, folding Emma's selected clothes up before placing them in the suitcase. Emma had told Lacey that she didn't need to help, but she'd insisted. "Besides, no matter where we go, we won't be staying. Not when Killian's in the hospital."

Henry nodded and then returned to shoving whatever clothing he could find into his backpack.

"You really couldn't convince Rumple to let you stay a few more days?" Lacey asked. "Until you've had some sleep and maybe visited Killian a few more times?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't think I could have said anything to that man without him deciding that I was going back on my word. And whatever he'd do then probably wouldn't be good for anyone. Especially Killian."

Lacey grimaced, glancing down to watch her hand toy with a loose thread from the duvet. "You're right." She murmured. "They've both been hurting each other for too long, and Rumple isn't ready to stop. Even if it means we can't be together."

"Yeah, well… that sucks." Emma muttered. Lacey sighed heavily, but Emma didn't look at her, focussing instead on the contents of her wardrobe. As much sympathy as she had for the situation Lacey was in, she had to admit that it was a struggle to understand what the other woman could possibly see in Rumplestiltskin. She hadn't known the man long, but she hadn't seen anything that might explain Lacey's love for him.

They were silent for a few minutes, Lacey returning to her careful folding of the few clothes Emma had decided to bring as Emma continued to examine her selection of jackets. She tried on the brown leather jacket she had worn in the Enchanted Forest, trying to determine if it would be warm enough to wear, but she was distracted when she put her hands in the pockets and felt the smooth, cold surface of a coin.

When she looked at it, the coin heavy in the palm of her hand, she almost couldn't breathe. Emma had forgotten the gold piece Killian had taken from the giant's castle and given to her, had held it tightly in her fist and kept it to remember him. Yet, after she'd pulled him close and kissed him until the compass was tucked in her jacket pocket, the coin had slipped her mind. She'd been too preoccupied with their goodbye and the thought that she was leaving him forever, as well as the lingering taste of him and the tender look on his face, to care about the gift.

But now it was in her hand, and she'd never felt more grateful. Even if Killian never remembered, something she didn't even want to  _consider_ , she'd have something he gave to her and she would make sure to  _never_ forget him.

It hurt too much to think about, so she forced the thoughts aside, shoved the jacket back into the wardrobe and turned back to Lacey. "Do you even think we'll manage to find his son? From what Killian's told me, it sounded like Baelfire was born centuries ago."

"He's somewhere in this world." Lacey promised. "Rumple told me at dinner yesterday. He's found a way to leave Storybrooke and go and find him. I didn't think he'd ask you to go with him though."

"Yeah, I think it would have been better for everyone if he'd asked you." Emma muttered. "At least you'd actually want to spend time with him. Right now, driving to God knows where with Rumplestiltskin is pretty much the last thing I want to do."

"I asked him." Lacey admitted, once again looking at the bedspread instead of at Emma. "I wanted to go with him. It means  _so much_ to him, and even if we aren't together, I still care. But there isn't enough of the potion for more than one and well…" She gestured down to the swell of her stomach. " _This_ makes things even more complicated. I don't really want to risk crossing the line."

"I get that." Emma agreed. "Magic seems to just screw everything up. It makes sense to avoid it."

"Screw everything up?" Lacey repeated, one eyebrow raised. "But… Rumplestiltskin told me that  _you_ had magic."

Emma grimaced. She'd barely thought about that particular revelation since she'd had it, and she really didn't want to dwell on it at that particular moment. Sure, she'd dreamed about discovering she had magical powers when she was younger, of being like Harry Potter and going to somewhere like Hogwarts and leaving all the foster homes and orphanages far behind her, but that was a fantasy she had long grown out of.

Magic  _was_ real, but she had yet to see any that made her glad it was something she possessed. It was all just dark curses and ripping out hearts and stealing memories, and unless she could click her fingers and bring Killian's memories back, she didn't care.

"It's not much use when you don't know how to use it." Emma grumbled, sighing in relief when she heard the door to the loft open and the sounds of Mary-Margaret and David talking as they finally returned from the hospital.

"Emma?" Mary-Margaret's attempt at a whisper was loud enough to hear in Emma's room. "Are you awake?"

Emma selected a slightly heavier coat, tucked the gold coin into her pocket, zipped up her suitcase and then made her way downstairs to the main room. "I'm awake. Is there any news from the hospital or did you come back straight after you spoke to Greg?"

"No news." David answered, frowning at Emma as she walked past him to place her small bag by the door. "Not about Hook anyway. I checked on him before I left, but it looked like he'd gone to sleep. And Greg, well, he said he hadn't seen anything. He was texting when he drove into Hook, which isn't exactly legal, but I told him we'd waive the charges and make sure he was home as soon as possible."

" _Texting_?" After everything that had happened over the last couple of weeks, Emma had been prepared to hear a more unusual explanation for the car accident. "God, maybe I have should have let Whale-"

"Are you leaving?" Mary-Margaret interrupted, staring at the suitcase at the door. "Emma, no matter how bad things seem right now, you don't need to run away."

"What?"

"I understand that Hook meant a lot to you," she muttered. "I do. And I know things have changed very quickly, but  _please_ don't go. Things will get better, if you just believe that they can."

"I'm  _not_  running." Emma spat. "Do you think I want to go? With Killian in hospital? If I had a choice, I wouldn't be going anywhere."

"Okay," David stated quickly, his arm around Mary-Margaret's shoulder and squeezing her slightly to stop her from speaking. "That still leaves the suitcase as a bit of a mystery."

Emma explained exactly what had happened since her return to the loft, keeping her voice to a whisper as she told her parents about Rumplestiltskin's threat to Killian so Lacey wouldn't hear. David grimaced and Mary-Margaret looked horrified, but neither of them got a chance to say anything.

Someone cleared their throat, and Emma noticed David's expression grow angry as he peered at the source of the noise. She turned around, annoyed that Rumplestiltskin had entered the loft without knocking. He was standing in the doorway, leaning on his walking stick and tapping his fingers impatiently against it.

"Ready to go, Miss Swan?"

~~~*~~~

After taking a few minutes to persuade Rumplestiltskin to let Henry accompany them, the group had gotten into the Dark One's Cadillac and headed out of Storybrooke. Emma had left David with instructions to keep an eye on Killian, as well as making him promise to call if anything at the hospital changed.

The first fifteen minutes of the car ride were tense. Henry was excited, asking question after question, but Rumplestiltskin said he was reluctant to answer until they were successfully outside the borders of Storybrooke.

They'd crossed the painted red line and Rumplestiltskin had shuddered, stalled the car and then they continued on their way. Rumplestiltskin remembered everything, and from that point on, seemed surprisingly happy to converse with Henry. Emma had tried to remain civil, although she wasn't keen to be too polite to the man who had threatened her boyfriend less than hour earlier, and soon the soft rumble of the car had lured her into a deep sleep.

She only woke when the car drew to a stop, still half-asleep as she got out the car and began to wheel both her and Henry's suitcases into Logan International Airport. Rumplestiltskin's announcement that they would be flying to wherever his son was had come as a bit of a surprise, but it was definitely preferable to spending hours in the Dark One's car.

Rumplestiltskin looked terrified, so it didn't take long for Emma to persuade him to hand her the booking details. He was clearly eager to let Emma handle everything at the airport, from checking in to finding the departure gate. After a bit of a commotion at security, with Rumplestiltskin trying to threaten the guards instead of putting his shoes, cane and shawl into the basket, they managed to make it to the correct gate.

"Guys, there's a Cinnabons here!" Henry exclaimed, bouncing slightly as he glanced around the large area. "How cool is that?"

Emma had to laugh. The one good thing about the forced trip was Henry's excitement. He'd never been further than Boston before, and even that had been a very short trip. So she ruffled his hair, handed him twenty dollars and then told him to meet her and Rumplestiltskin next to Cinnabons in half an hour. Henry beamed at her, nodded and then ran off, only walking when Emma called after him to slow down.

"He's very enthusiastic, isn't he?" Rumplestiltskin asked, one eyebrow raised as he peered after Henry.

"Henry's allowed to have some fun." She snapped. "At least one of us should have a good time."

Rumplestiltskin sneered and strode away. Emma watched him limp towards the bathroom, and then she made her way to a quiet corner of the lounge, making sure to take the three carry-on bags with her. Once she was sat down, she dug her phone out of her pocket and called David.

"Emma?" There were a few rings before David answered and he sounded confused when he did. "It's only been a few hours. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I mean we're going to New York. Things could be worse." she muttered. "I just… you haven't heard anything?"

"Nothing." Emma heard David sigh and then what she thought was the rustle of sheets. She hadn't considered that he might have been sleeping, even though he had missed almost as much sleep as she had over the previous couple of days, and she grimaced at the thought that she had woken him. "I don't think there's much the hospital can do, Emma. They're still going to give him a CAT scan, but I think they're sure it's crossing the town line that's taken his memories, not any mental trauma."

"Okay, so just let me know once you know for sure." Emma instructed. There was a yawn on the other end of the line, and Emma didn't know why that made her suddenly feel at ease, but it did. "I suppose I should have expected that the one guy I was starting to think wouldn't leave would end up forgetting me."

There was silence for a few moments, and then another heavy sigh from David. "Look, Emma, although I don't know you as well as I'd like, I do know that…" He sounded cautious, but Emma was just curious to know what he was going to say - if there was anything he  _could_ say to make her feel better. "Don't think that what you had with Killian is over."

"You sound like Mary-Margaret." Emma grumbled. "I'm in Boston with Rumplestiltskin on a hunt for his son, Killian doesn't remember me and Cora's on the loose. Hope really isn't something I have right now."

"Then don't hope."  _That_ was why she liked David. He understood she didn't think the way they did, that she'd learnt long ago that no hope was better than falsely believing that things would get better. "Just listen. I know I can't promise anything, but try to remember that I forgot everything once. I still loved Mary-Margaret."

It was the last thing she had expected David to say, and it was hardly comforting. Mary-Margaret hadn't remembered David either, and she had hardly been the woman David had originally fallen in love with. Perhaps it seemed to David like he'd fallen in love with the same woman, but Emma struggled to see her friend in Snow White.

"I don't know if that's really the same thing." she mumbled. "You and Mary-Margaret, you're one of those fairytale couples. You woke her with true love's kiss. There are literally movies about it. Whoever you were and whoever Mary-Margaret was, you were going to fall in love. That's  _definitely_ not me and Killian."

"Maybe not." It took David a few seconds to reply, and he sounded dubious. Emma held her phone away from her ear and blinked down at it. Surely David didn't think that her and Killian were even close to sharing a relationship like Snow White and her Prince Charming? She didn't even know if she loved Killian, although she would readily admit that she cared for him more than she'd cared for anyone in a very long time. "But why leave it up to chance? If being with him is what you want, you have to fight for that. You have to  _try_."

She hung up without a goodbye. Whatever she had thought about her relationship with Killian - and she hadn't really thought much further than the fact that he made her happy and she was starting to trust that he wouldn't walk away - she hadn't ever considered simply allowing it to be the end.

Not that she'd had much time to think about it, but now that she was, using his amnesia as a reason to walk away wasn't even in consideration.

She'd promised him once that she wouldn't say goodbye to him again. Maybe Killian didn't remember, but that wouldn't change. Not until Killian wanted it to.

And once she was back in Storybrooke, she'd go to with him and maybe, just maybe, she'd let herself trust that whatever he'd seen in her before still drew him to her.

~~~*~~~

The hotel Rumplestiltskin had organised for them wasn't the nicest place Emma had ever stayed in, but it also wasn't the worst. With her plans to only stay for one night, the state of the room hardly mattered so long as it was clean.

Henry picked the bed closest to the window and as Emma checked her phone for any new messages, he leant on the windowsill and watched the goings on in the street below. He wore a wide grin, clearly overjoyed at being outside of Storybrooke for the second time, and Emma allowed a fond smile to grace her face when she looked at him.

She only had one new voicemail, from Storybrooke General, and she called them back only to hear confirmation of David's theory. The CAT scan had shown nothing wrong, and all they could do was wait for the Blue Fairy to find a way to return Killian's memories to him.

Part of her had hoped they'd find something in the CAT scan, something that could be fixed easily and meant it would just be a few days and things would  _normal_ again. Or as normal as things could be.

"Mr Jones is okay, right?"

Emma glanced back up at Henry to see that he was facing her instead of out the window and she gave him a short nod. "The same as when we left."

Henry grimaced, leaving the window to sit beside Emma on the bed. "I think everything will work out. And you should listen to me, because I knew you would break the curse."

That was true, although Emma vividly remembered her son's insistence that she was in the book, dancing alongside Killian. He hadn't been right about everything, and even though Emma wished she could be optimistic and believe Henry's words, a louder part of her was certain that this would be something he was wrong about.

"I don't know if this is the same thing, kid."

He shook his head in exasperation and then fixed Emma with a determined glare. "I know I was wrong about him being your prince, but him being a pirate is much cooler anyway. Besides, things have to work out. You're bringing back all the happy endings, right? Well, if you're Mr Jones' happy ending, then he's bound to remember you."

"If I'm-?" She couldn't finish the sentence, so she shook her head and changed the subject. "So,  _when_ things work out, you're okay with Killian?"

Henry shrugged. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, I don't really know him. Mom never let me spend much time with him. I think she didn't want me to talk to him about the curse, in case he told me it was true."

She sighed, wrapped her arm around Henry and dropped a light kiss to the top of his head. "Well, that can change. Killian promised to teach you how to be a pirate, right? I remember, because he told me I couldn't be first mate."

"Yeah." The same excited glint that had appeared when Henry first saw New York had appeared again, and Emma smiled down at him. "When he remembers, we'll go on the Jolly Roger and we'll find some treasure or something!"

"We?"

"I suppose you can come too." He joked, rolling his eyes and nudging his shoulder against hers. "If you have to."

"Oh, thanks for the invite." Emma chuckled, moving her hand to ruffle her kid's hair. "Soon you'll be telling me that I'm in charge of scrubbing the deck."

Henry laughed, and then fell quiet. Emma watched as he rifled through his jacket pocket and drew out several crumpled brochures that he must have picked up at the airport. They were quiet for a moment as he straightened them out, and in that moment, Emma wished that she could have taken Henry on a actual holiday, instead of roping him into the search for Baelfire.

It would have been much more fun.

There was a knock on the door, and Emma slumped forward, wishing Rumplestiltskin could have taken longer to ready himself for a possible reunion with his son. Henry seemed equally disappointed, one leaflet clutched in his fist.

"I thought he'd be less excited to find Baelfire." Henry mumbled. "It took me more than a few minutes to find you. Even when I knew I could."

"I still don't think we'd have had time to see Newsies." Emma pointed out, plucking the leaflet out of his hand and shoving into her jacket pocket. "But I promise we'll get pizza later."

~~~*~~~

The last thing Emma wanted to do was leave Henry alone with Rumplestiltskin, but after her attempt to be buzzed into Baelfire's apartment building caused the man in question to run away, she had no choice but to take off after him and leave the two of them together.

If she could get Baelfire back to Rumplestiltskin quickly, then they could be flying back to Storybrooke by the end of the day.

_That_ thought was more than enough motivation and she sped up, darting across the busy road without a thought to the cars trying to drive past. She leapt over a barrier, dodging past pedestrians as she followed the fleeing man.

It had been a while since she'd chased someone through a city, and it felt exhilarating to be doing something she was so used to. For a moment, only a moment, it felt like she'd never moved to Storybrooke. Like nothing had changed.

It was a lonely thought, and it made her ever more determined to catch the man and get back to her room in the loft, back to Mary-Margaret and David and Killian.

Baelfire turned a corner, out of Emma's sight, but instead of staying on his tail, Emma darted down a small alleyway between two buildings. She sprinted the last several metres, colliding with Baelfire when she burst back onto the sidewalk. The two of the tumbled to the ground, her knees smashing against the sidewalk.

And then Emma looked up.

For a second, she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing,  _who_ she was seeing. It couldn't be him, not like this. But she blinked and he didn't go away.

"Neal?" She could barely say his name, had only said it a few times since he'd left her. It had to be a coincidence, or a mistake, or anything else that would explain why Rumplestiltskin had led her to  _him_. Anything other than Neal being another fairytale character. " _Neal_?"

"I don't understand." Neal muttered, his wide-eyed stare unblinking. "Emma? What are you doing here?"

"What am  _I_ doing here?" She repeated, a mad laugh escaping her lips even as she stood up and stumbled, her knees aching. "Me? That is  _not_ a question you get to ask!"

"Oh, come on!" Neal scoffed. "You show up in New York and chase me down and you don't expect me to have questions?"

"I'm pretty sure you owe me more answers than I owe you." Emma spat. "And I'm not giving you any until you tell me truth. Are you Rumplestiltskin's son?"

She'd pictured finding Neal many times over the last decade, although most of those daydreams had been during her time in prison and the following two years in Tallahassee and had varied between tearful, apologetic reunions and furious arguments where she confronted him with what he'd done. They'd all had one thing in common, though, and that was that her first question to him had nothing to do with Rumplestiltskin.

She hadn't expected this. Hadn't expected to ever see him again. And after her two years in Tallahassee, waiting, she'd decided she didn't want to.

But he was there and gaping at her and she didn't know what to do.

"What?"

"Are you Rumplestiltskin's son?" He barked out a laugh, shaking his head at her as though she was  _crazy_ , and Emma knew him well enough to know that he didn't want to answer the question, that nothing had changed and he still tried to avoid giving her answers he knew she wouldn't like. It was the only reply she needed. "You  _played_ me. You're from there. You played me and  _he_ played me. You both played me!"

"Whoa, what are you talking about?  _Rumplestiltskin_?" Emma just watched him, one eyebrow raised, and then she saw him realise he couldn't worm his way out of her questions. "Wait, is he here?"

"Yeah. He's waiting back at your apartment." Emma answered sharply. "I guess he wants to talk to you."

"You brought him to me?" Emma drew her head back in surprise, his sudden anger something she had never experienced before. But then she remembered things he'd said to her the first day they met, at the fairground, about how his father had been a bad guy. "Why would you  _do_ that?"

He made her so  _mad_.

"Hey! I am the only one allowed to be  _angry_  here!" She snarled, crossing her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes at him. "Did you know who I was, where I was from, the whole time? Was this just some sort of sick, twisted plan?"

"Emma, come on, I-"

"Did you…" She hated how small her voice sounded, but the question on her lips was one she'd carried with her for years and asking it seemed momentous. She'd spent years assuming the answer, and it felt so strange to know she might get the truth. "Did you even care about me at all?"

Neal seemed to deflate, running a hand through his hair and looking anywhere except at Emma. "Emma, don't-"

"I want to know!" She insisted. "I want the truth. All of it!"

"Fine." He said shortly, burying his hands in his jean pockets and looking quickly over his shoulder. "We… We've got to get off the street. We can't talk about it here. Not out in the open. I spent a lifetime running from that man. I'm not going to let him catch me. There's a bar down the street. We'll talk there."

The last thing Emma wanted to do was have a drink with him. "No. Whatever you're going to tell me, tell me now."

"No, bar's better. But don't worry. You can yell at me when we get there."

He started walking away before she could protest, but she didn't follow. Neal could be as difficult as he wanted, but dismissing her anger and telling her what to do really didn't make her want to go with him. He didn't seem to notice she wasn't following, and as she watched him get further away, she suddenly didn't  _need_ answers.

Sure, she'd like an explanation, but she wasn't going to jump through hoops to get one. And it was the first time she'd ever thought that. A part of her had always needed to understand why he'd left her, why he hadn't cared, but not anymore.

Maybe he hadn't cared, but it didn't mean that others didn't. Other who hadn't hurt her the way he had.

"Neal?" she called after him. He turned, a scowl on his face when he noticed she hadn't moved. "I'm not getting a drink with you. I'm not the girl in the bug willing to go and get a drink with a guy I just met. Not now. You can tell me here. Right here. It's not as though there are other people around. So tell me. What the  _hell_ is going on?"

He just blinked at her.

"Look, Neal, I'm not in the mood to wait around for answers." she stated. "Being here, in New York, was the last thing I wanted to do today and meeting you really hasn't made that better. Trust me, Neal, if you don't explain now, I am more than happy to drag you back to your father without getting any sort of explanation. I've lived long enough without one."

He gaped at her, too shocked to do anything when she stormed over to him, gripped his arm and started pulling him back towards his apartment. He stumbled after her, only pushing her away when they reached the corner of the street.

"Okay, okay." he grumbled. "You want the truth? Ask away."

"Did you know who I was when we met?"

Neal shook his head, a quick, disbelieving laugh falling from his lips. "If I had, I wouldn't have gone near you."

Emma drew her head back in surprise. He had to be lying. He  _had_ to have known. "Oh, come on. You expect to believe that?"

"Come on? Look, I was in hiding. I came here to get away from… all that crap." Neal told her. "If I knew who you were, then yeah, I'd have walked away the instant I met you."

"So what? You were just using me?" She snapped. "You just needed someone to take the fall for all the watches that you stole. And you figured that I'd do it because I was naive enough to love you?"

"I wasn't using you." Neal insisted. "When we met, I didn't know. I found out."

"How?"

"When I went to sell the watches, I ran into a friend of yours. August." he explained. Emma gaped at him.  _August_? It had been August who told him the truth, who had driven him away? "He told me he knew who I was and what you had to do. You needed to fulfil your destiny and I… I just needed to get away."

"You left me.. and let me go to prison, because  _Pinocchio_ told you to?"

"Emma…"

"What?" She didn't want to hear an excuse, not after such a ridiculous story. "You figured you'd just leave me to it. Just let me go to a town  _filled_ with the craziness that you were running away from. You thought it would be better for you to just  _leave_ without a word and send me to jail? What? Was it too much trouble to make something up so that I wasn't left wondering what I'd done. Why you'd left me. I  _loved_ you."

"I… I was," Neal glanced around anxiously, as though he'd suddenly think up something that would calm Emma down. "I was trying to help you."

"Help me?" Emma repeated, a bitter laugh falling from her lips. "By sending me to prison?"

"By getting you home." She scoffed, and Neal's shoulders sagged forward, his hand running down his face. "If there had been another way… I didn't want you to follow me."

She gaped at him. It didn't make sense. If he'd just told her something,  _anything_ , she wouldn't have followed him. She'd been rejected enough times to know when to stay away. Without a reason, she'd just been unable to do anything  _but_ try to come up with a reason for his actions, and  _that_ had been the reason she'd spent so long looking for him once she was free.

But no matter what Neal was saying, the question Emma couldn't move past was how he'd met her, how another person from the Enchanted Forest had become one of the most important people in her past.

"So you're saying that us meeting was a coincidence?" she asked eventually. "Because how the  _hell_ did that happen? If it wasn't in your plan or your father's?"

"Think about it. He wanted you to break the curse. Us meeting, that could have stopped it. Maybe it was fate."

Fate? Emma couldn't accept that, didn't  _want_ to consider that something called fate had demanded her life play out the way it did. "Oh, come on. You believe in that?"

Neal shrugged. "You know, there's not a ton about my father that I remember that doesn't suck. But he used to tell me that there are no coincidences. Everything that happens, happens by design, and there's nothing we can do about it. Forces greater than us conspire to make it happen. Fate, destiny, whatever you call it. The point is… Maybe we met for a reason. Maybe something good came from us being together."

She took in a shaky breath. Emma hated the way his sudden fervour about them being fated struck something in her, a small remnant of the girl she'd been when she first met Neal, and she shrunk back, burying her hands in her coat pockets, her fingertips brushing the cold metal of Killian's coin.

Yes, something good had come from their time together. She could never think otherwise. Henry was wonderful, Henry was the person she loved more than anyone. But she couldn't tell Neal. She didn't want him to know about Henry, didn't want to give him a reason to find a way back into her life.

"No." she said firmly, meeting Neal's gaze. "Not that I can think of. I just went to jail. That's it. Doesn't matter now. I'm over it. And you. I am  _definitely_ over you."

She saw Neal's jaw tense, and then he glanced down, his gaze fixing on her neckline. He looked confused when he looked up again. "So why do you wear the, uh, key chain I got you?"

Emma glanced down quickly, swallowing nervously when she saw the metal swan visible at her collar. It was a good question he'd asked, and one that, at that time, she couldn't answer.

Why  _was_ she still wearing it?

She reached up and tugged the chain off, staring down at the keychain in her hand. She held it out towards Neal, waiting until he'd snatched it from her grip before speaking. "I wore it to remind myself never to trust someone again. But, you know, I should have taken it off weeks ago."

"What?"

"Months ago, even." She continued, suddenly feeling so much lighter without the keychain around her neck. "You know, I spent so long not trusting anyone because of that, because of  _you_  and you know what I've learnt? It sucks. It's lonely. And honestly, Neal, I don't want to wear something that reminds me of you. Not when there are other things I want to remember."

She took her hand out of her pocket then, the golden coin held in the palm of her hand. No matter what conversations she'd had with David and with Henry over the last day, she couldn't know what would happen with Killian. It was still uncertain and different, but she did know one thing.

No matter what happened with him, she wouldn't want to forget any moment he had spent with her.

"What's that?"

She looked up at Neal, curling her fingers around the coin. "A gift. One I never want to give back." She allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she watched the sun reflecting off the coin. "Now come on. I made a deal with your father that I'd bring you to him."

"You made a deal with him?"

"Yeah. And I'm upholding my end."

"No, Emma," Neal pleaded. "You don't have to. You know that."

"I know."

"Okay, so this should be really easy for you." Neal told her. "Tell him that you lost me. Tell him you can't find me. If you do that, you never have to see me again."

She peered at him, trying to decide whether or not to do what he'd suggested. Rumplestiltskin had threatened Killian in order to get her to help, and she wondered what he'd do if she came back with one of Neal's excuses.

Then again, Rumplestiltskin was powerless outside of Storybrooke. If he tried anything, she could stop him.

She clenched her fist around Killian's coin, turned on her heel and strode away.

~~~*~~~

After walking away, Emma hadn't made it particularly far. She'd sat on the steps of a building a couple of streets away, unable to keep going when everything that had just happened finally sunk in.

She's just been talking to Neal.  _Neal_. He'd given her excuse after excuse, but he'd never said sorry. It wouldn't have been enough for her to forgive him, but it would have been  _something_. But seeing him again was nothing compared to the fact that he was Rumplestiltskin's son.

That Rumplestiltskin was Henry's grandfather.

She didn't know what to do. She wasn't even sure if walking away was the right thing, but she'd just wanted to get away from Neal. From everything.

And she knew it was probably a stupid idea, but she really wanted to talk to Killian. If things were the way they should be, he'd have been the only one she  _could_ talk to. The only one in Storybrooke who knew what Neal had done to her before.

So she called him.

"Uh, hello?" Emma hadn't expected him to pick up his phone, hadn't expected to  _have_ his phone, and she probably wouldn't have called him if she had. Once he was talking though, no matter how confused he sounded, she couldn't have hung up. "Hello?"

"Hi. Killian, I… I didn't think you'd have your phone. How did you-?"

"The Sheriff gave me my personal effects." He answered carefully, and Emma guessed that by 'The Sheriff', he meant David.

"Oh, it's Emma, by the way."

"I read that on the screen." he told her, and she really hated the lack of familiarity in his voice. "Emma Swan."

"That's me. The person who came to see you when you woke up."

"Oh. I remember you." He said quietly, and that hurt because Emma knew he didn't mean it the way she wished he did. "Why did you call?"

Emma didn't know what to say. He wasn't the man who knew her anymore. He barely remembered her name, and although she didn't know for certain, she had a suspicion that magic and fairytale characters were other things he'd forgotten.

She couldn't tell him anything.

"I just.. wanted to say I'm sorry that I can't visit later today." She stammered, gripping the phone tightly and regretting ever calling him. "I had to leave town. It's all been a bit crazy and I…"

"What is it?"

Emma took a deep breath, and even though he wasn't talking as much as he used to, even though he didn't remember, just hearing his voice was comforting. "I just want to talk."

There was a long silence, too long, and she wondered if he was trying work out what they'd meant to one another, why she was calling him to talk about her day,

"Okay." He said suddenly, softly. "Then talk."


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 35**

Despite Killian's apparent willingness to listen, she couldn't bring herself to start talking about Neal. Still, the small talk they exchanged was comforting, each word from Killian calming her down. Distracting her.

However, the conversation seemed more difficult than any they'd shared before. Killian was quiet, didn't have much to say, and there was only so long they could talk about the weather in New York compared to the weather he could see out of his hospital window.

But it was Killian, and he'd only crossed the town line the day before, so Emma was more than willing to wait for things to start getting easier.

That was until she mentioned Henry. Killian was quiet for just a bit longer than usual, and then, when he finally spoke, Emma realised that the Killian she could have spoken to about Neal, about  _anything_ , had been lost too.

"Who's Henry?"

Emma faltered. There were too many things to explain, things that Killian had known before, before she could even start on  _why_  she'd needed to talk. "Well, he's my son."

"You have a son?"

"Sorry. I can't… I can't do this now." She stammered. In that moment, asking those questions, he wasn't her Killian anymore. She didn't want to tell him about Neal, didn't want to burden him with problems he didn't care about. "I shouldn't have called you. But thanks for listening, It helped."

"Until it didn't."

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't deny that. So Emma just muttered a quiet goodbye and hung up. She took a moment to try and just stop  _thinking_ , her phone cradled in her hand and her eyes fixed on the sky.

If she couldn't speak with Killian, she wanted to speak to  _someone_. Her relationship with Mary-Margaret had been slightly strained since the curse had broken, although Emma's trip to the Enchanted Forest had meant that they had only had a few days to adjust to the changes.

But Mary-Margaret had been her closest friend she'd ever had, and after running into Neal, Emma hoped that was still true.

"You arrived safely?" Mary-Margaret asked the moment she picked up the phone. "Where are you? David mentioned something about Boston?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. We're all safe." Emma muttered, having never been asked that question before. "We got a flight from Boston and we're in New York now. And I just found Rumplestiltskin's son."

"That was fast." Mary-Margaret exclaimed. "Does that mean you'll be back-"

"It's him." She couldn't let Mary-Margaret finish. Emma had spent the whole discussion with Killian preparing herself to talk about Neal, and she didn't want to talk about Storybrooke or about New York. She just wanted to tell someone that she'd found Neal, and she wanted to be told what to do.

"Who?"

"Baelfire. Or, well, I know him as Neal." Emma mumbled. "He's Henry's father."

"Henry's father?" There had been a long pause before Mary-Margaret spoke, and maybe Emma would have been able to guess what she was thinking before, but these days, she had no idea. "Oh, Emma. I don't know what to say."

"I'd like it if you could say  _something_."

"Okay." Mary-Margaret stated. "Look, Emma, don't feel like you need to rush back to Storybrooke. If you want to stay a few more days and talk things over, then-"

"No." Emma interrupted, horrified by the suggestion. "That's the last thing I want."

"David and I can take care of Storybrooke." Mary-Margaret was trying to reassure her, but all her words did was make Emma sigh in frustration and run a hand through her hair. "I know you're worried about Cora and about Hook, but you don't need to make a hasty decision."

"It's  _not_ a hasty decision." Emma snapped. "I promised Killian I'd visit him every day, and I'm going to start doing that as soon as I can."

"Don't you want the chance to be a family?"

"No. Not with Neal." It wasn't an answer she needed to think about. "Neal and I, well, we aren't you and David. I guess I loved him once, but not anymore. I could never be  _anything_ with Neal. Not after what he did."

Another silence, and Emma wondered if Mary-Margaret was trying to decide whether or not to ask what exactly Neal had done. Luckily, she seemed to decide against that line of questioning. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise-"

"You didn't understand." Emma corrected quietly. "It's fine."

"How are you?"

"Right now?" Emma couldn't stop the bitter laugh. Did Mary-Margaret even need to ask? Running into Neal would never have been an enjoyable occasion, but add in the fact that her boyfriend was in hospital and her son was being watched by Rumplestiltskin, and Emma was surprised she hadn't broken something, or someone, by now. "I think I'm just trying to get my head around the fact that apparently Henry is related to Rumplestiltskin. When Killian gets his memory back, I can't see that going down well."

She heard another sympathetic noise on the other end of the phone, but even as she'd said it, she'd known that Killian wouldn't care. She'd noticed the fondness in his voice the one time he'd mentioned Milah's son,  _Rumplestiltskin's_ son, and she knew that Henry's lineage wouldn't be something Killian would hold against him.

It struck her then, that Milah's son was  _Neal_ , and she groaned, her head cradled in her hands. Killian had met Milah centuries earlier, the same with her son, and that meant Neal wasn't just another storybook character, like August or her parents, but one who had lived for longer than she could imagine.

She'd always known he was older, but  _centuries_ older was too much to deal with. Neal had been something in her past, a mistake finally put behind her and  _nothing_ to do with the new life Henry had pulled her into. Except now that wasn't true.

"Trust me, Mary-Margaret," Emma finally continued. "I have as many as questions as you do. But it doesn't matter right now. I don't know what to do."

"Please tell me you're not calling to ask me to tell you to keep it from Henry."

Emma hadn't even considered telling Henry the truth. She'd walked away from Neal and he'd said if she misled his father, she'd never have to see him again. It was better for Henry to believe his father had been a good man instead of him knowing that his father was a man who just kept running away.

"Henry thinks his father is dead." Emma reminded Mary-Margaret. "I told him that for a reason. I want to protect him."

"No matter what this man did, Henry has a right to know who his father is." Mary-Margaret insisted. "The truth about your parents… Emma, you of  _all_ people should know how important that is."

"It's different." Emma protested. "Henry has parents. He has me, and as much as I wish he didn't, he has Regina. He doesn't need to know Neal. I don't want him to get hurt."

"Are you sure this is about protecting Henry?" Emma knew that, if she were back in Storybrooke, in the loft, Mary-Margaret would be leaning towards her, hot cocoa cradled in her hands and one eyebrow raised. "And not yourself?"

Emma wished she thought otherwise, but,  _god,_ Mary-Margaret could be annoying. She just wasn't able to understand Emma's situation, not when the only man she had fallen in love with had been the literal Prince Charming. "Whatever it is, it's up to me." Emma stated firmly. "If I'm going to tell him, it's not going be here and now and only because I happened to run into Neal. And I'm not telling Neal anything either. I'm not going to let him just waltz in and become a part of Henry's life."

"The way you did?"

Emma inhaled sharply, not liking the judgement in Mary-Margaret's voice. "It's  _different_. Henry came to me. And even then, the only reason I gave Henry up was for his own good, because I couldn't give him the life he deserved. Neal left me just because he was  _scared_ , and look, suddenly being Henry's mom was one of the scariest things I've ever had to do. I can't have Henry think he has a father only for him to run away."

"Emma-"

"David would never run. He would never leave." Emma said finally. "But that's not the same for everyone. You need to understand that."

~~~*~~~

After finishing her phone call with Mary-Margaret, Emma had hurried back towards Neal's apartment building, to Henry and Rumplestiltskin. She hadn't really planned what she'd tell the Dark One, but she'd decided that no matter what Rumplestiltskin said in response, she was heading back to Storybrooke that very afternoon.

She was relieved to see them right where she'd left them, sat on the curb outside the building, although Henry had somehow got his hands on a hot dog during the time she'd spent chasing after Neal.

"Hey." She said in greeting, grinning down at her son. "How's the hot dog?"

"Did you find him?" Rumplestiltskin didn't give Henry an opportunity to answer Emma's question. She'd hoped for a bit more time before the Dark One demanded answers, but she should have known better. "Well?"

"Sorry." Emma said shortly. "Your son… he got away."

Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes at her, but Emma determinedly met his gaze until he appeared to believe her. He shook his head frantically and pushed her aside so he could rush over to the building entrance, hitting every single button on the intercom before Emma could process what he was doing.

"Hey, Rumplestiltskin!" she called, offering Henry a hand up before hurrying over to the agitated man. "Wait! What are you doing?"

The intercom buzzed and the gate into the apartments swung open. Emma gripped Rumplestiltskin's arm to stop him from going through. "I'm finding my son." He hissed, wrenching his arm away from her. "I've waited too long to let  _your_ failure stop me. He lives here, so he'll be back. And I'll be waiting."

"Come on!" Emma protested, following him as he moved surprisingly quickly through the building. "Do you really think breaking into your son's apartment is going to make the best impression? It's hardly a good reunion!"

He wasn't listening, and when he bent down to pick the lock, Emma realised it was useless to protest. She muttered one last, weak objection, that he  _couldn't_  just pick the lock, but Rumplestiltskin only laughed.

"Actually, that's something I'm quite adept at." Rumplestiltskin spat. "Besides, I thought finding people is what you  _do_. There may be information in here, about who he is, what he does, who he loves. We know that, we can find him.  _You_ can find him."

"There are things called laws." She pointed out, spinning around to face Henry when he offered to keep watch. "No, Henry! Look, back in the Enchanted Forest, I'm sure you managed to use your magic to get away with every horrendous and evil thing you did, but not here. I'm not letting you pull Henry and me into this."

"If I get arrested, then my son will have to testify against me and we will be reunited."

Emma scoffed. Neal had proven long ago that he had no issues with sending someone he claimed to love to jail, and she didn't see Rumplestiltskin's plan ending well for anyone. She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head in disbelief when Rumplestiltskin managed to open the door and then took a small step into the apartment.

She had wanted to leave New York anyway, but she definitely wasn't sticking around now that Rumplestiltskin seemed intent to drag both her and Henry into being accomplices to his crimes.

Henry pushed past her to follow Rumplestiltskin into the room, and Emma watched him start to explore the room, glancing around and looking like he was  _actually_ helping Rumplestiltskin search for clues about Baelfire.

Emma only took a few steps inside before closing the door behind her, her gaze drawn to the yellow dreamcatcher that hung in front of the window.

It was the last thing she had expected to see, and she really didn't know what to think about it. It was hard to reconcile the idea that he'd cared enough to keep something so sentimental with the things he'd admitted to her less than an hour before.

"Well, getting arrested sounds like a great plan." Emma said sarcastically. "I guess Henry and I will be going then. Sorry to disappoint you, but I've spent long enough in prison already and I'd rather not join you there."

"Going?" Rumplestiltskin spat, turning to face her. "You're not going anywhere. The deal was that you got Bae to talk to me."

"I don't remember us going into specifics." Emma replied. "So I'm getting out of here."

Rumplestiltskin stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes narrowed, and as much as Emma wanted to remain unaffected, she couldn't help but shift nervously. "You talked to him." Rumplestiltskin said eventually, dangerously. "That's why you want to leave. What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything."

"But you talked to him?"

"No." Emma insisted. "You're just reading into things, because you want me to have spoken to him. You want to believe he didn't just get away. You want to blame me. But I didn't-"

"Don't lie!" Rumplestiltskin roared, slamming his cane down against the wooden floor. "Tell me what happened or I'll  _make_ you tell me."

Emma was glad Henry had wandered into another room, because she didn't want him to see the fury clear in Rumplestiltskin's expression. "You'll make me? You don't have magic here. What are you going to do?"

"I don't need magic." He hissed, crossing the distance between them so he was closer than Emma ever would have wanted, and even though Emma knew she could stop him if he tried anything, she still shrank away. "If I remember correctly, your precious boyfriend is in the hospital right now, with no memory of who you are and who I am. If you break this deal, then the  _second_ we return to Storybrooke, I'll be his next visitor. Trust me, it will be so  _easy_ to kill him when he doesn't remember who I am."

The Dark One's threats might have been enough to persuade Emma to accompany him to New York, but she wasn't going to keep letting him control her with them.

Although that wasn't what she was thinking. He'd mentioned Killian's amnesia, and although it wasn't a surprise that the town had spoken about Killian's admittance to the hospital, how would Rumplestiltskin have known exactly what was wrong?

"How do you know that?" she asked shakily, her fists clenched at her side. "How do you know he doesn't remember?"

Rumplestiltskin blinked at her, and then she watched him plaster a confused look across his face. "Why wouldn't I know that?"

"It isn't exactly common knowledge."

"Belle told me." Rumplestiltskin said easily. "She was distraught when she found out."

Emma shook her head, not even needing to trust the feeling she had that he was lying, because to her it was so clear. Lacey had been at the loft since Killian's accident, and had still been there when she left. She couldn't have told Rumplestiltskin, not unless she'd called him since. And Emma didn't think she would have, not to talk about Killian.

And then it hit her. She knew  _exactly_ why Rumplestiltskin knew. She'd assumed it had been Cora who had pushed Killian across the town line, after everything that had happened in the Enchanted Forest, but she should have  _known_. Cora wouldn't have let Killian live, and Rumplestiltskin would do anything but kill him. Not after what he'd promised Belle.

"It was you." She snarled. "You pushed him."

"Now, now, Miss Swan." Rumplestiltskin said smoothly, an infuriatingly smug smirk spreading across his lips. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"Oh, I won't regret it."

The smugness fell away, and Emma enjoyed the brief alarm that flashed in his eyes before she raised her fist and punched him. He staggered backwards, dropping his cane when he reached up to clutch at his nose.

He drew his hand away and glanced down at it, and Emma couldn't help the pleased smile that crossed her face when she saw he was bleeding. That just seemed to make Rumplestiltskin angrier, and he straightened up and rushed towards her.

Emma stepped aside and shoved him away from her, into the wall, sagging in relief when he didn't get back up. He glared up at her but didn't fight, probably aware that here, without magic, he couldn't win. "You're pathetic." Emma yelled. "I don't blame your son for wanting to stay away. So you can stay here and wait for him to come and tell you himself, but I'm leaving."

She called for Henry, unable to meet her son's eyes when he looked from her to Rumplestiltskin. He had to have heard everything, but she was pretty certain that punching a crippled man wasn't the typical actions of one of Henry's fairytale heroes.

"Are we going back home?" Henry asked quietly. "To Killian?"

"Yeah, kid." Emma answered. "Sorry you couldn't see any of New York."

Henry shrugged, then scowled over at Rumplestiltskin before following Emma towards the apartment door.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Henry asked the question just as Emma opened the door, and she could only gape in horror when she saw Neal on the other side. Neal was looking from Emma to Henry in surprise, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Emma knew just what he was going to say and she couldn't let him.

"Not now." She snapped. "Look, Neal, if you want to ask the question that I know you want to ask, come to Storybrooke. I'm not doing it now and I'm not doing it here."

Then Emma put her arm around Henry's shoulder and the two of them walked away.

~~~*~~~

Emma had hoped to get back to the hotel, pick up their suitcases and go straight to the airport, but she'd forgotten that Henry had unpacked his few clothes into various drawers as though they were on an actual vacation and were staying for more a few days.

She knew she had to tell the truth about Neal, especially if Neal actually did what she'd told him and showed up in Storybrooke expecting answers. Henry  _had_  to know, but he was so happy, even with only a couple of hours in New York, and she didn't want to ruin it. She didn't know what to do,  _how_ to tell him, but she had to.

She perched on the edge of one of the twin beds, tapping her fingers anxiously against her knee as she waited for Henry to finish packing, listening and occasionally nodding along with Henry's ramblings. He was telling her about how his hot dog had been better than the ones Granny made, but that he probably shouldn't mention that to her, but Emma was hardly listening.

"Henry?" She asked eventually, once his bag was zipped up and he seemed to run out of words. "Can you sit?"

Henry frowned slightly, but then he nodded and joined her, bouncing slightly on the mattress once he was sat down. "What is it?"

"I need to tell you something."

"What?"

Emma took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists, and then she finally turned to face her son. "Do you remember what I told you about your father?"

"Yeah."

"It wasn't all true."

"Which parts?" She couldn't meet his eyes. She didn't want to see Henry's confusion, his disappointment, not after he'd looked so happy the whole day. "Which parts weren't true?"

"Everything." Emma answered quietly, running a hand down her face when Henry jumped to his feet and stood opposite her, arms folded and an angry scowl on his face. "It was all made up."

"Why?" Henry stammered, and Emma glanced up briefly to see his lip was trembling and he was clutching at his jumper. "What was wrong with the truth?"

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I should have told you."

"Then who is my dad?" Henry asked shakily. "What was he like?"

Emma didn't want to tell him, but she'd already ripped away the comforting lie she'd given him weeks before and he deserved the truth. "Well… I knew him as Neal. I was sixteen and just out of foster care when we met. We… hung around with each other for a while. He was the first person in a very long time who I thought cared about me, and I loved him for that."

"So you did love him?"

"I thought I did." She said honestly. "I found out that he'd stolen some very expensive watches from a jewellery shop he used to work at. Neal wanted to run. To leave me behind and go to Canada, but I didn't want to lose him. I offered to go and fetch the watches from where he'd stashed them so that we could sell them and use the money to... I don't know, get new identities and start a new life in Tallahassee. I was young."

"What happened?"

"I got the watches and I gave them to him." She said slowly, able to picture that night as though it happened yesterday when she closed her eyes. "We promised… I promised to meet him in a parking lot after he'd sold them. I waited, and I waited, and he never came. But the police did. They said they'd been tipped off and…"

"And you went to jail." Henry finished, his voice small. "Because of my dad."

"Yeah. It's not exactly the storybook romance I'm sure you would have preferred." Emma mumbled, glancing up in surprise when she felt Henry sit back by her side and lean against her shoulder. "If it helps, I don't know if things would have worked out like that if we'd known about you. I was already in prison by the time I found out you were on the way."

"You think he would have stayed?"

After what Neal had said that day, Emma couldn't answer so she just shrugged. "I  _am_ sorry, Henry. I should have told you before. I knew that as soon as I told you, but I wanted to give you something you could be happy about. That, and I was selfish. It's not a good excuse, kid, but I really didn't want to talk about it. It hurt. Back then, it still hurt.  _I_ still hurt."

He looked upset, but Emma found some comfort in the fact that he was still sat at her side. "You should have told me." He muttered. "My mom always lied to me. About the curse and about Storybrooke. I didn't think you would. You weren't supposed to lie. You were supposed to be a hero."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you telling me?" Henry asked. "Why now?"

"Because I saw Neal today." She replied. "So did you."

Henry's eyes widened, and when she looked at him, he was gaping at her. "That man." He stated disbelievingly. "Baelfire? My dad is Baelfire?"

"Apparently." Emma confirmed with a bitter laugh. "Not that I knew that."

"You didn't know? He lied too?" Henry seemed miserable, and Emma wished she could have given him a better end to their very short, unplanned trip, but she should have gotten used to things going badly. "Emma? Would you have told me if you hadn't seen him?"

It was painful to hear him use her name instead of 'mom', even though he had only used that title since her return from the Enchanted Forest. She hoped his anger and disappointment wouldn't last for too long, but she couldn't blame him if they did. Especially not after she answered his question.

"I don't know." It was honest, even if it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. But she wasn't going to lie again. "Will you be angry if I say that? If you'd asked again, then maybe. Otherwise, I don't think I'd have brought it up."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and in an attempt to distract herself from the silence of the room, Emma started to fidget, moving the hotel key back and forth along the keyring until Henry spoke again.

"Why doesn't it hurt anymore?" He sounded curious now, instead of sad, and Emma may have lied, but Henry had always been the type to adjust quickly. He'd done that with the curse, and he was doing so now, and every time Emma didn't think she could love him anymore, he proved her wrong.

It wasn't an easy question to answer, so Emma sighed and stared up at the dirty cream ceiling. "Look, Henry…" She didn't want to tell him that she'd spent years still thinking about Neal, wanting to know why he'd left her. "For a long time, I wanted to know if it was my fault he left. Now I know it wasn't."

She smiled at Henry then, and he actually smiled back. "Is it because of Killian? Because you've found your prince?"

And Henry hadn't changed, was still grinning at her as he mentioned her prince, and everything was going to be okay. She laughed, both in relief and in amusement, reaching out to ruffle Henry's hair. He grumbled slightly, but didn't dodge away.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah." Henry replied quietly. "But what do I do if he does come to Storybrooke? Like you told him to?"

"Whatever you want to do. He's still your father." Emma told him, slightly begrudgingly. "Would you like to meet him? If you had the chance?"

Henry shrugged. "If he does come, do you think it will be because of Rumplestiltskin? Or because of me?"

"You." Emma doubted Neal would be following his father back to Storybrooke if there was nothing else there for him. If he did show up in Storybrooke, she figured it would be because of the unanswered questions she had presented him with as she and Henry abandoned his father in the apartment.

"Well, if he wants to talk to me, then I want to talk to him." Henry said with a decisive nod. "If he doesn't come, then I don't care."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you _want t_ o go back home?"

Henry looked longingly over at the creased brochures left on the bedside table, and Emma hated that things were so complicated, that she couldn't give him a proper vacation, but she already knew what Henry was going to say.

"No." He answered truthfully. "But we should. Because Rumplestiltskin hurt Killian and you love him, so we should be with him."

Emma wasn't sure about the word 'love'. Her breath quickened and her heart raced at the thought of it, of  _loving_ Killian, but she didn't know if that was what she felt. But she wasn't going to get into semantics when everything else Henry was saying was right. So she nodded, and as she watched him pick up his brochures and stuff them into his jeans pocket, all she could think was that it had gone far better than she had expected.

~~~*~~~

They'd managed to get back to Storybrooke within hours, arriving back the same day they had left, although the journey back had been very long, expensive and difficult. Rumplestiltskin had arranged transportation to New York, and without her own car waiting at the airport, getting anywhere close to Storybrooke had been hard.

Luckily, Henry knew which coach would get them near to Storybrooke, and he'd rested his head on her shoulder and slept as they drove through the night. After that, they had to walk back to the town line, and although, by that time, Emma just wanted a rest, Henry was wide awake once he realised they'd be trekking through the woods.

David had met them on the other side of the painted line, shuffled them into his truck and by the time they walked into the loft, it was nearing midnight. Mary-Margaret had greeted them with a bowl of steaming tomato soup and a grilled cheese, and in that moment, Emma couldn't understand why she'd  _ever_ allowed Rumplestiltskin to persuade her to leave.

After Henry yawned around a mouthful of food, they all retreated to bed. Henry was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow, but despite the bone-wearying tiredness that came with travelling to New York and back, as well as from seeing Neal and punching Rumplestiltskin, Emma couldn't sleep.

Henry's words had weighed on her since they left New York. Not about Neal, although that topic had been brought up more than once during the trip back, but just how  _simple_ he'd made things seem. That she loved Killian, so she should be with him.

At the time, only hours before, the word had been too much. Love. But she'd thought about it since, spent  _too much_ time thinking about it as Henry snored against her shoulder, and  _of course_  she loved him. She'd claimed to love Neal once, before the word meant pain and being left alone, before she stopped thinking it was something she could have, and what she felt for Killian was more powerful than anything she remembered feeling for him.

So, yes, she loved Killian.

She just didn't know if she was  _in_  love with him, the way Henry meant whenever he called Killian her prince. How could she know that? She'd never been in love before. Not the way David and Mary-Margaret were in love. Not the way it was in stories.

But she did love him.

Killian didn't love her. He didn't even  _know_ her. And maybe Rumplestiltskin had made it so that he never would, his memories lost for good.

At least Emma knew that she had loved someone who hadn't left, who hadn't hurt her the way so many others had. If Killian never remembered, although a large part of her had to believe that he would, she would never want to forget that. Him.

She'd told Neal that day that there were other things she wanted to remember, and as she lay in bed, she decided that there was no better replacement for the cheap silver keychain than the golden coin Killian had pressed into her palm. Emma wanted to trust people again, as much she could, and she'd trusted Killian. Trusted him so completely she had been willing to give him her heart. She'd told him that she knew he'd keep her heart safe, and it was  _that_ she wanted to remember. That there was someone she'd believed in like that. Someone who'd known about the trust and hadn't let her down, betrayed her.

Besides, her neck felt far too naked without a second necklace.

~~~*~~~

Even with Cora hiding somewhere in Storybrooke, David and Emma had decided to attempt to keep things as close to normal as they could. Henry's alarm had gone off early in the morning, and after he'd had cereal and Emma had gulped down a coffee, Mary-Margaret and her bow and arrow had accompanied Henry to Storybrooke Elementary.

Emma had gone with David to the station, but hadn't stayed there for long. David had insisted that he could handle things, and she hadn't bothered to insist on helping. Instead, she'd picked up breakfast from Granny's and wandered to Storybrooke General.

Except once she got to Killian's room, she hesitated. Their last two conversations hadn't gone well, and they had  _hurt_ , and she wasn't sure if she could handle walking into the ward and seeing no recognition in his eyes.

But she had brought him breakfast and she loved him, so she opened the door and stepped inside.

He looked up when she entered and, although it took a moment, his gaze still softened when it fell on her and even though it wasn't as warm a look as it always used to be, it was more than she had hoped for.

"I brought waffles?" Emma explained, shaking the paper bag in her hand slightly just in case he hadn't noticed. "I know it's not Granny's lasagne but I figured it was a bit too early for that." Killian didn't say anything, although his eyebrows creased together slightly. "You… you really like Granny's lasagne. Or, at least, you did. Before."

He smiled at her in response. He still looked injured, the grazes on his cheek an angry red and his left arm tied up in a sling, and Emma didn't know if it was their day apart or just because she knew she loved him now, but for just a second, it felt like she'd forgotten how handsome he was and her breath caught at the sight of him.

It was only once he had the food container open on his lap, the plastic fork in his only hand, and Emma was perched beside him on an uncomfortable plastic chair that she spoke again. "How have you been?"

Killian raised an eyebrow and then snickered. "I've been alright." He answered. "Things could be better."

He looked pointedly down at his bandaged stump, held against his chest by the sling, and Emma had to laugh. When he looked back at her, his stare was even warmer, but it still felt different. Like the look wasn't just for her anymore.

"So have you had any visitors since I left?"

Killian nodded and took a bite of the waffle, leaving traces of whipped cream still on his fingers, before answering. "The Sheriff visited once."

"The Sheriff?" Emma asked, confused for a second before she again realised who he must have meant. "Oh, David? He's actually just the deputy. I'm the Sheriff."

His jaw clenched, and Emma watched as he scrutinized her, his gaze settling on the badge attached to her belt. "I know that. I had to have known that." He muttered under his breath a few times, frustrated, before slumping back against his pillow. "And there was someone else who visited me. She said her name was Regina."

"Regina visited you?"

Killian nodded. "She came to ask me a few questions, although I wasn't exactly able to provide her with any answers."

"What did she ask?"

Regina had been in hiding since they'd found out that Cora was in Storybrooke, and Emma was certain that whatever had driven her to visit Killian couldn't be anything good.

"I'm not sure." Killian told her, shrugging his shoulders and wincing at the movement. "I think I must have taken pain killers just before she visited, because what I remember her asking me doesn't make any sense. She said something about a magical dagger belonging to Rumplestiltskin. Whoever that is. She wanted to know if I knew where it was."

"A magical dagger?" Emma repeated. She remembered, only vaguely, hearing August mention the Dark One's dagger before, although too many things had happened since for her to remember exactly what he said. It didn't matter. If Regina and Cora were searching for anything related to Rumplestiltskin, it was bound to be trouble. Although, after the day before, she couldn't find it in herself to care if Rumplestiltskin got harmed in any way. "Are you sure?"

"That's what I remember." Killian said. "Besides, even if that's not what she asked, I couldn't answer her questions."

She knew she should leave and tell David and Mary-Margaret the first piece of information they'd had about Cora since they found out about her arrival, but she wanted a few more minutes with Killian. Even if they were spent in silence.

"Are you okay?" He asked eventually. "You seemed upset when you called yesterday."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about hanging up." Emma said sheepishly. "I just ran into a part of my past I'd wanted to forget. A surprise like that kind of throws you."

"But today is better?" Emma startled when she felt his fingers against the back of her hand, but when she glanced up at him, he looked as surprised by his action as she was. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine." Emma admitted quietly, smiling nervously when his eyebrows rose up and he blinked at her. And she wasn't sure if it was the right move, not when he didn't remember her, but she turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. With his hand holding hers, she could pretend that nothing was wrong, that he still cared.

If she didn't look up and see just how confused he was.

"And yeah," she continued. "Today's better. At least, it's definitely off to a better start."

Another smile from Killian, and this one was small and soft, and then every doubt she'd had about talking about Neal was gone. Maybe he wouldn't know her past the way he used to, but she was suddenly certain he'd listen anyway.

Once she started speaking, she couldn't stop.

~~~*~~~

No one seemed thrilled by the news that Regina was after Rumplestiltskin's dagger, and although they still had no confirmation that she was working with her mother, Emma and her parents had very easily come to the conclusion that even if she wasn't, they really couldn't allow her to get her hands on the weapon.

None of them were clear on what the dagger could be used for, and they definitely had no idea where Rumplestiltskin would have hidden it. If Regina was asking Killian, the pawnbroker's seemed to be a possibility, but Killian had told Emma once that he thought there was plenty more in the shop he had yet to find. If he thought that after close to thirty years, it seemed unlikely that any of them would be able to find something Rumplestiltskin was bound to have hidden away.

Even though David and Mary-Margaret were going to start combing through the store, Emma had left them at the pawnbroker's and crossed the road to the library.

Lacey was behind the desk when Emma strode in, and when she looked up from whatever book she was reading, Lacey's eyes widened and she hurried over to Emma. "You're back? You only left yesterday! Is everything okay? Did Rumple… he didn't  _forget_ , did he?"

"He didn't forget." Emma confirmed, following Lacey through the library and into her small apartment. "Whatever potion he made to keep his memories worked."

"So you found Baelfire then?" Lacey asked, gesturing Emma over towards the couch. "I thought it would take longer to persuade him to return with you."

"Well, I don't know how well the persuading is going." Emma admitted. "I found Baelfire and then Henry and I got the hell out of there."

"You  _left_ Rumple there?" Lacey said, looking horrified. "He's never been out of Storybrooke, he's… well, he's hardly been  _in_ Storybrooke. How could you just walk away?"

"He'll make it back." Emma snapped. "He got us there, didn't he?"

Lacey frowned at her. "What happened, Emma?"

She shouldn't tell Lacey, she knew that, but she couldn't stand the concern on her face, concern for  _Rumplestiltskin_ , and she couldn't hide her anger. Not when Regina's questions for Killian had confirmed what Emma already knew. "What happened is that  _he's_ the one who pushed Killian across that town line. He did it." Emma regretted her bluntness the instant she finished speaking. Lacey looked horrified, shaking her head in disbelief, and Emma shouldn't have said anything. "But I didn't come here to tell you that. I shouldn't have… Look, Regina and Cora are looking for Rumplestiltskin's dagger and I thought if anyone knew where it was, it would be you."

"I'm glad you told me." Lacey muttered, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm not glad I  _know_ , but I am glad you told me."

"Right." Emma said stiffly. "So what  _do_ you know about this magic dagger?"

"I've never actually seen it. I just heard about it and only from a friend of my father's. Rumple changed the subject the few times I tried to ask questions. I do know it's some kind of power source for the Dark One, or a weapon against him, or something. But I'm sorry, I can't help more than that." Lacey frowned with concentration as she spoke and gave Emma an apologetic look as she trailed off uncertainly.

"So what you're saying is that if Cora and Regina get their hands on it, things'll be bad?" Emma confirmed, grimacing at Lacey's solemn nod. "Okay. So we really need to make sure that doesn't happen. Do you know where it is?"

"No." Lacey answered. "But I know Rumple. I'll figure it out."


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 36**

Lacey had insisted on searching for Rumplestiltskin's dagger alone. Emma had protested a bit, because she doubted going after the dagger alone was a good idea, but Lacey wouldn't listen. She just seemed to want to get away, most likely to have time to deal with what Rumplestiltskin had done to Killian.

It wasn't too surprising. Emma didn't know Lacey that well, especially now that the curse was broken, but she was aware of the librarian's love for Rumplestiltskin. Even though Lacey had decided that she couldn't risk a relationship with the Dark One, Emma was certain it had to hurt every time she heard proof that he wasn't even _trying_ to change for her.

But Emma agreed, as long as they met up again in an hour, and after they left the library and locked it up, she let Lacey walk away.

With David and Mary-Margaret searching the pawnshop, Emma planned to find the map Killian had given her and go searching through the woods for August. She couldn't go just yet, not with plans to meet Lacey, and although she thought about helping her parents, she told herself that crowding the pawnshop was more likely to slow them down.

Instead, she stopped at the jewelry shop on Main Street.

She only had a vague idea of what it was she wanted and so spent spent a few minutes looking into the glittering cabinets, taking in the price and the appearance of several plain gold chains.

Emma had never had a gold necklace before, but the idea of wearing Killian's coin on a gold chain meant too much to her to search for any cheaper options. She'd hardly spent any money since her arrival in Storybrooke, which she took as enough justification to look at the yellower, more expensive chains.

"Sorry! I didn't realise I had a customer." Emma looked up when she heard the flustered voice, seeing a middle-aged man coming into the store from the back room. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

Emma slid her hand into her jacket pocket and drew out the coin, balancing it in the palm of her hand and holding it out towards the jeweller. "I want this on a necklace. I thought about just drilling a hole in it and hanging it off a necklace I already have but… well, it means too much."

The jeweller waited for her to nod her permission before plucking the coin out of her hand. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, turning it back and forth in the light until a smile spread across his face.

"Then there's something I can do." He explained, bending down to slide a tray of what looked like small coin frames out from a drawer under the counter. "I can attach one of these in minutes, if there's one you'd like. If you want something different, I can show you a catalogue of coin bezels that I can order in to Storybrooke."

No ordering was needed. After narrowing the selection down to the frames that matched the gold and the size of the coin, it didn't take long to choose and soon the jeweller was using a miniature screwdriver to lock the coin into a fitted frame, edged with a golden imitation of fine rope.

After she'd paid for everything, Emma fiddled with the clasp of the necklace until it was hanging around her neck, the golden coin lying just below the silver circle pendant on her other necklace.

She thanked the jeweller, Gerry, for his help, and once she was standing back on Main Street, she grasped at the pendant. It felt strangely momentous to be wearing the new coin, instead of the keyring she had thrown at Neal the day before. For a second, she didn't know why, her grip tightening around the coin and then it hit her.

Her old necklace had been a metal keyring hanging from a cheap silver chain, all that she'd been able to afford when she was released from prison. She'd been so _young_ when she got it, so young when she'd been with Neal.

This necklace was different. It was a similar size, a similar weight, but it felt _different_.

And she liked that, liked how it felt comforting instead of trapping her in the past. Maybe it had taken meeting Neal again to know that she'd moved on, but with Killian's coin resting around her neck and her swan keyring back in New York, with Neal, she knew, finally, that she had.

~~~*~~~

Emma had only had time to grab Killian's map from the trunk of her car before receiving a frantic call from David. There'd been a commotion across the road, and although Emma knew there was still plenty of time before she was meant to meet Lacey, Emma was also aware of what lay below the library and knew _any_ sort of commotion couldn't be good.

When she arrived, and the door was wide open, she knew she'd been right. David was standing in the center of the library, his hands on his hips as he glanced around the room. Books had been sprawled across the floor, and one of the book trolleys was turned on its side, Lacey's large cellphone abandoned next to it.

"You didn't break the door down, did you?" Emma asked in greeting, sending her father a terse smile when he glanced her way. "Because I was here half an hour ago and the door was definitely locked when I left."

"As good as I am at breaking down doors, and as much fun as that would have been, this one was unlocked when I got here." David told her. "Mary-Margaret's checking Lacey's apartment, but it looks like she's gone."

"Crap." Emma muttered, bending down to pick up Lacey's cellphone and grimacing when she saw her own number on the screen, ready to be called. "Did you hear anything useful?"

"Nothing. Just some loud noises." David said as he set the cart right and started to shove books onto it. "We got over here as quickly as we could but whoever was here had already gone. What do you think happened?"

"Cora?" Emma suggested. "With magic, I'm sure they can get away instantly. It would make sense for it to be her or Regina."

"Why go after Lacey?"

"For the same reason _I_ came to see Lacey." Emma stated. "Killian didn't know anything about the dagger. I mean, he doesn't remember anything. They want to speak to the next person who might know about it. Although, they seem to have stepped up their game."

"Kidnap is a bit of a drastic leap from just having a conversation." David agreed. "Although maybe they thought Hook would be a bit more willing to cooperate. I mean, he's worked with both of them before."

"Killian wouldn't have helped them. Not now. I bet the only reason they left him behind at the hospital was that they realised how useless he is." Emma snapped. "They know we're on to them. Or they know I'm back and want to find the dagger quickly. Before Rumplestiltskin returns."

"Yeah, once he's back, no one's getting anywhere near the dagger." David said. "And honestly, Emma, that's fine with me. We just need to make sure Cora and Regina don't get their hands on it before he's back. Whatever the dagger does, I'm sure it won't be good if it's in their hands."

"Lacey said it might be a weapon against Rumplestiltskin." Emma told him. "It might be good to get that out of his hands. Even if it _is_ Cora who has it instead."

"We don't want a war on our streets." David pointed out. "No matter how you feel about Rumplestiltskin right now."

That was true. She didn't even want to imagine the chaos that could come from a magical fight between Cora and the Dark One, and right now, with Greg Mendel still in town, that could only lead to disaster. Besides, no matter what the dagger truly did, they couldn't leave Lacey in the hands of the two witches.

"Okay, so we need to find them." Emma ordered. "We haven't managed to find Regina since she went missing, so I'd bet they've all gone back there. We need to figure out where she is and fast. Take Mary-Margaret and go to Regina's house and her vault. Look for anything that might give us a clue about where she might be. If you find nothing, then check the psychiatric ward of the hospital."

"The hospital?"

"She's kept people there before." Emma explained. "I don't think that's where she'll be. Not when I know about it. But it's worth a look."

"And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to take Henry somewhere safe." She said. "If they do manage to get their hands on the dagger, they'll be more powerful and Henry will be the first person Regina goes after. And then I'm going to find out what I can about the dagger. See if I can't get to it before anyone else."

~~~*~~~

It was helpful that Killian had drawn the small once-abandoned trailer onto his maps. Emma held the parchment carefully in her hand as she led Henry out of the centre of Storybrooke, away from Storybrooke Elementary and, hopefully, away from Regina and her mother.

She hadn't seen August since she'd come to him and asked for help, and she had no idea how he'd respond to her showing up with only questions. There were some things she desperately wanted to talk to him about, about Neal and how he'd persuaded him to leave her for the cops to find, but she didn't have time for that.

Henry kept asking where they were going as they moved carefully through the forest, but showing him the map didn't seem to answer his question. She just kept her hand on his shoulder and led him towards the trailer, towards August.

The trailer didn't look lived in, but Emma knocked anyway.

"I don't think there's anyone here." Henry muttered, although he copied her and rapped his knuckles against the door. "Are we hiding here?"

Emma didn't answer. "August? I know you're here." She called. "Killian told me."

There were a few more minutes of silence, and then the door creaked open. It _was_ August standing there, but even with Killian's warnings and the way he'd turned to wood in front of her, she hadn't been prepared to see an animated wooden puppet-man in front of her.

"Awesome." Henry breathed, and Emma turned to see him looking up at August with wide eyes and an even wider grin. "I've never seen a wooden man before."

"There aren't many of us." August said bitterly, but he stepped aside and let them into the trailer. "Did Hook also tell you that I didn't want you to see me like this, or did he leave that part out?"

"He told me." Emma stated. "And I would have waited longer to come if I didn't need your help."

"But you still would have come."

"Eventually." Emma said with a shrug. "You _were_ my friend, you know. I wouldn't have gone to just anyone for help when I found out about the curse."

August took in a deep breath, although his chest didn't seem to move, and then he sat on the small, greying couch. "So what's wrong? Is this about the murder?"

"The murder? No, that's… well, we know who did it. Even if we don't know who the victim was." Emma explained. "Things have changed quite a bit over the last few days. Since Killian saw you. Regina's mom's here, in Storybrooke, and I was wondering if Henry could stay with you until we know it's safe."

She watched as the two boys exchanged a look and then August looked back at her, his eyes narrowed. "Why me? You didn't trust me with Henry before the curse broke. You made that pretty clear. Won't Hook help?"

"Killian doesn't remember anything." She told him, glancing down at her hands and picking at her nails. "He got pushed across the town-line. I don't know if you heard what that does, but with no cursed identity to fall back to, he just… lost himself instead."

August stared at her, but she couldn't read anything in his expression, not when his eyes were painted on and portrayed nothing.

"Look, right now, Killian doesn't matter." She admitted. "He's in the hospital and he's safe, which is more than can be said for Lacey. You know I wouldn't have come if I didn't trust you to help me. You were the one person who told me the truth before it all came out, even if I wasn't willing to hear it. That means something."

She'd said the same words to him before, when she'd told him that he wasn't at fault for anything that had happened to her, and although she wasn't as confident in those words as she had been back then, she remembered how repentant he'd been when she'd said that.

And maybe, a decade ago, he'd convinced the man she thought she loved to leave her behind, but she really did believe he wanted to make up for that. If he even could.

August met her gaze and then, slowly, he nodded. Emma smiled gratefully and led Henry into the small bedroom at the back of the trailer.

"You know why you have to stay here, right?" Emma asked quietly. "It's just until everything's okay again."

Henry nodded, the smile he'd given August having completely faded now that it was just the two of them. "Do you really think Mom will hurt Lacey?" he asked quietly. "She told me, before Grandma killed Daniel, that she was going to try and be good. For me. Do you think she's stopped trying?"

Emma didn't know what to say. She'd barely seen Regina since she returned from the Enchanted Forest, only to discuss Henry's custody, and that arrangement hadn't lasted more than a day. "I think…" she started cautiously. "I think that trying to be good is harder now that Cora's here. I don't have much experience with parents, but maybe it's harder for her to be who she wants to be for you when Cora wants something different."

It wasn't an excuse for anything Regina might have done since Cora's arrival, but it seemed to cheer Henry up.

"Look, kid, if anything happens… if August tells you to run, you do it, okay?" She told him quietly. "You get the hell out of Storybrooke and over the town line. You'll be safer there. Get to the nearest town, you know the one, and wait for me. I'll come and get you." She waited until he nodded, and then she pulled him towards her for a quick hug. "I love you, okay?"

She stuffed a few crumpled notes into his hand, kissed his forehead and then left the small room.

August was still sat stiffly on the old coach, only looking up when she closed the door to the bedroom and turned to face him. "Regina and Cora are after Rumplestiltskin's dagger." She told him bluntly. "You told me about it once before, but with everything else going on, I didn't really remember it all. What does it do?"

He stood, rummaged through a small, leather satchel he'd stored beside the table, and then handed her a sheet of paper. It had an ink drawing of a wavy dagger on it, the name Rumplestiltskin written on the blade and it _had_ to be what they were looking for.

"This is the dagger." August said pointlessly. "It's the only weapon that can kill him. It's also the only weapon that can control him."

"Control him?"

"If Regina or her mother get their hands on this dagger, Rumplestiltskin will do whatever they want him to do." August explained. "And that means that whoever holds this dagger is more powerful than you can even understand."

"Do you have any idea where it is?"

"No." Emma grimaced at August's answer, and then moved towards the trailer exit. August stood up quickly, his hand cold against her arm as he held her in place. "Look, Emma, even if they're searching for it, it doesn't matter. Rumplestiltskin's in Storybrooke. He won't let them near it."

"He's not in Storybrooke." Emma told him, dread filling her when she saw the horror dawning on his face. "He's in New York. With Neal."

As unreadable as August's timbered face was, he couldn't hide his reaction to those words. Emma watched his expression go blank, saw him swallow, and she nodded in response to his unasked question.

He had to know, now, that she knew what he'd done, what he'd told Neal to do.

"Go protect the town." He said stiffly, pushing her away from him and towards the door. "I'll watch Henry."

"You will?"

"I promise." August muttered. "And these days, that means something."

"If Regina and Cora come after him, take him to the town line."

"I will." August promised. "I'll get him there and make sure he crosses it. I can't do more than that. I can't follow. There's no magic there. Nothing to keep me moving if I go across with him."

"But you will protect him?"

"It's the least I can do. After everything I've done." He told her sincerely, and Emma gave him a small smile. "And I know it's not enough."

But he felt guilty. She could see that, had seen that since he'd lain paralyzed in bed and told her he had more to apologise for, and it wasn't enough to get forgiveness, not when she still needed to hear exactly what he'd done. And yet it was still more than Neal had done, when he stood there and defended his actions with poor excuses.

She kissed August on the cheek, and then she walked away.

~~~*~~~

Emma had only just arrived back on the road into Storybrooke when her phone rang and Mary-Margaret gave her the unwelcome news that even after looking everywhere, Regina and Cora were nowhere to be found. Emma promised to get back to the loft as soon as possible, so that they could try to come up with a new plan of action, and within seconds, she was running down Main Street.

They couldn't wait until Cora realised Lacey didn't know where the dagger was. They couldn't waste time.

When she got there, she opened the door to see Mary-Margaret standing there. Emma raised an eyebrow at her in surprise and was met by a sheepish smile. "I heard you turning the key in the lock. I wanted to warn you that he's here."

"What?" Emma asked, but Mary-Margaret didn't need to answer. Instead, she just stepped aside and gave Emma a clear view of Neal sat in front of the television, ignoring how David was sat nearby and glaring at him, and Rumplestiltskin at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Well, Miss Swan," Rumplestiltskin said, an irritating smirk on his face. "It's nice to see you made it home safely."

"I can't really say the same."

Rumplestiltskin laughed, the cruel laugh she'd really grown to hate over the last few days. She took a moment to glance over him, noticing that there were no marks left from her punch the previous day, most likely gone along with his limp once he crossed back into Storybrooke. He was sitting there, smirking, as though he was _welcome_ in her home.

"What the hell do you want?" she snarled.

It was Neal who answered, standing up from the couch and walking towards her. "I figured you should know that your deal's over. You don't need to be in his debt, so don't worry."

"I thought I fulfilled my end of the deal, or did Rumplestiltskin change it again?" Emma rolled her eyes and then glared over at the Dark One. "It went from finding you to chasing you to getting you to talk to him. What did he say I had left to do? Get you to give him a hug?"

"Whatever my father did, you have to know that I'm not here because of him."

"I figured."

Neal glanced around the room, and Emma noticed him focus on David's glare, then Mary-Margaret's folded arms, before he turned to her again. "I came here for Henry. I.. well, I was told that was his name. Can we talk?"

Emma crossed her arms and took a deep breath. "Neal, now's really not a great time." And even though she'd rather spend no time at all with Rumplestiltskin, the one good thing about his appearance was that it was bound to speed up their rescue of Lacey. "Look, Rumplestiltskin, Cora's after your dagger."

The words seemed to bother Neal more than his father. Rumplestiltskin simply placed his coffee on the counter and giggled. "No one know where it is. She won't find it."

"Well, we'd worked that much out." David muttered. "Cora doesn't seem to have done the same."

"It doesn't matter if she can find it or not." Emma explained. "She's got Lacey."

"Lacey?" Rumplestiltskin repeated, his expression dark and dangerous. "She has _Lacey_?"

Emma heard Neal wonder who Lacey was, but she was focused on the Dark One. He looked deadly, an ugly curl to his lips, and when she nodded in confirmation, Rumplestiltskin roared and threw his cup against the wall, the ceramic shattering into little pieces and falling to the ground.

"We'll get her back." Mary-Margaret said quietly, bravely reaching towards him to lay a hand on his arm. "Everything's going to be okay."

Rumplestiltskin shrugged her hand away. "Oh, you don't need to worry about me." He snarled. "Cora's going to regret ever coming _close_ to her."

The man clenched his hands into fists, but Emma was barely paying attention to him. She could see Neal out of the corner of her eye, and his jaw was tense, an angry glint in his eye as he stared at his father. But she couldn't find it in herself to care about that.

"So you can find them?" Emma asked, fiddling with the sheriff's badge on her belt. "You know where they might be?"

"Cora and her daughter aren't made for hiding." Rumplestiltskin said with a shake of his head. "They'll be somewhere nice and cosy. Somewhere with all their belongings and their THINGS. Out of sight, yes, but nowhere hard to find. Did you check Regina's vault?"

"Yes, we did." David told them. He was getting ready to search, adjusting his gun holster and shrugging on his coat. "There wasn't anything there."

"Did you take the saviour?"

"Okay, that's not a name I'm going by." Emma protested. "And no, I was busy."

"They don't have magic. You might have been able to see something that they couldn't." Rumplestiltskin stated, before yet another malicious smirk spread across his face. "Lacey might already be safe if you hadn't been too busy sitting at your beloved's side."

Emma felt herself twitch, even though she was aware that he was needling her and she forced herself to keep her fury down. She couldn't stand hearing him talk about Killian, especially when it was so clear how much he relished the thought of what he'd done to Killian and to her.

She raised her hand and clasped the coin pendant, her knuckles white, and after a few deep breaths, she felt herself calm down. "If I hadn't been at his side, I wouldn't have known Cora was even looking for your dagger." she told him, her voice steady. "I've been trying to find out anything I can about your ridiculous dagger so that we know what we're dealing with. I didn't mean for Lacey to get involved but you're fooling yourself if you think Cora would have left her alone."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head and stormed past her, knocking her out of the way, only pausing when Neal spoke up.

"Where are you going?"

"To find her."

"We're coming with you." David decided, coming up beside Emma and leading her towards the door with a hand on her shoulder. "We're not letting you and Cora get into some sort of magical stand-off."

"I don't need you in my way." Rumplestiltskin hissed. "Stay here."

"We're going." Neal snapped. "I remember what you do to people who know about your dagger. You're not going _anywhere_ alone."

~~~*~~~

Emma had never been in Regina's vault, but she _did_ remember searching the family mausoleum with Graham, months before, and the realisation that Graham's heart really had been right there, just below them, stung.

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand, moving the coffin aside, and the group marched down into the dark vault. There only seemed to be one room, lined with shelves of objects Emma couldn't even name and filled with chests and trunks.

"They're not here." David said loudly, as Rumplestiltskin moved round the small room and rummaged through the different suitcases. "I don't think they'll be hiding in a box."

"No." Rumplestiltskin stated. "But something else might be."

Emma raised an eyebrow when he came to a halt before a tall storage trunk. Rumplestiltskin pulled it open, revealing several small drawers, and with the suitcase open, Emma could hear the faint, rhythmic sound of heart beats.

"What are you looking for?" She asked cautiously, as the Dark One ran his finger along the drawers. He didn't answer. Instead, he smirked and selected a small chest from the top right drawer, a faint pulsing red light coming from it.

"This."

He flicked the metal clasp open and raised the lid to reveal just what Emma was expecting - a still-beating heart. But it didn't look like David's heart had, it wasn't glowing bright and red. Instead it was marred with darkness, several black spots pulsing with each heartbeat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Neal asked loudly, and when Emma looked back at him, he seemed horrified. "Whose heart is that?"

"I'm making sure we have the situation under control."

"Under control?" Neal repeated. "Come on, you don't need to-"

"It's _Belle_." Rumplestiltskin snarled. "I'm not leaving anything to chance."

Neal seemed confused by his father's vehemence, but no one had the time to explain. Not when Rumplestiltskin was pushing them aside and hurrying towards the mirror on the other side of the vault. He examined it for only a few seconds and then he pushed the wall, which swung open like a door.

"Maybe we should have checked for secret doors." David muttered, as he strode past Emma and followed the Dark One into the newly-revealed room. " _That_ didn't seem to require any magic at all."

Emma couldn't see inside the room until David and Rumplestiltskin moved aside, but once they did, she saw Lacey tied to a chair, Cora waiting behind her, her hand resting lightly on Lacey's shoulder while Regina hovered slightly behind, an uneasiness about her as she took in the small crowd now filtering into the room.

"I was hoping there'd be more time before our reunion. Shall we greet each other with a kiss this time?" Cora said slowly, turning away from Lacey to fix Rumplestiltskin with a cruel smile. "I suppose you already know what I want. Perhaps we can make a deal. I know you're fond of them."

Lacey whimpered, Cora's hand moving from its place on Lacey's shoulder to rest over her heart.

It took Rumplestiltskin a moment to react, but when Regina took a step closer, holding a ball of fire in her hand, he finally spoke. "Yes, let's make a deal."

Cora only looked smug for a second, her expression changing quickly to horror when Rumplestiltskin held out his hand and showed her the heart, his fingers flexing around it and squeezing until Cora was gasping and stepping away from Lacey.

"Let Lacey go, and I'll give you your heart back." Rumplestiltskin offered, loosening his grip on the organ. "What do you think of that arrangement?"

Cora grimaced and nodded, and then Regina waved her hand and the ropes holding Lacey fell away. After that, Emma didn't watch what was happening between Rumplestiltskin and the witches. Instead, she hurried to Lacey's side and helped her up.

"You alright?" Emma muttered, as she wrapped an arm around Lacey's waist and let her lean against her. "Sorry it took a while to get here."

"I'm fine." She breathed, and after Emma scanned over her, she agreed that although Lacey looked shaken, she seemed otherwise okay. "I don't know how long I'd have stayed fine, but I'm okay. Cora and Regina spent most of their time arguing over whether or not they should hurt me."

It was only once Lacey and Emma had returned to the door, about to leave the room, when Cora held her hand out for her heart. Everyone watched as Rumplestiltskin glanced from Cora to Lacey, his gaze lingering on the woman he loved before he fixed Cora with a dark stare.

The heart was almost in Cora's grasp when Rumplestiltskin began to squeeze it, his smirk growing malicious as dust drifted from his fist into Cora's open palm. Cora struggled to breath, and then with one more squeeze, she fell to her knees.

"Mother!" Regina cried, rushing over to cradle Cora in her arms, holding her until the witch took her final breath. "Why did you _do_ that? You made a deal!"

"And I kept it." Rumplestiltskin spat. "I did not, however, make any promise that her heart would still be beating when I gave it back."

Regina's eyes narrowed, but she seemed unable to say anything else. Emma turned an angry glare towards Rumplestiltskin, feeling Neal and David gently take Lacey from her side. "I thought we were going to arrest her." Emma stated, crossing her arms across her chest. "Why did you kill her?"

"Where would you keep her that she couldn't easily escape from?" Rumplestiltskin asked, as though that was an excuse. "Without her dead, she'd be a danger to everyone."

Emma scoffed and started to walk away, not wanting to admit that part of her was relieved that Cora was gone. She only stopped walking when she heard Lacey speak, her voice quiet and shaky as she clung to David's side.

"Thank you for coming for me, Rumple." she started. "And thank you, for helping me finally decide what to do about us."

Emma blinked over at Lacey, surprised that she was saying that now, after everything that had just happened and with everyone around. But when she glanced at Lacey, she figured that maybe Lacey couldn't have done it alone, not with the way she was leaning into David.

"Belle, this isn't the time." Rumplestiltskin told her. "Come on, let me take you home."

"No." Lacey insisted. "You just killed her. And I know what you did to Killian. I don't even want to think about what you must have done to Keith, even though I asked you not to hurt him. I'm through with your loopholes and your lies. So thank you for saving me, but we're done. For good."

Rumplestiltskin looked confused, miserable and dangerously furious, but Mary-Margaret escorted Lacey from the vault before he could say anything in response.

"What are we going to do about Regina?" David asked suddenly, clearly keen to change the subject. "We can't arrest her either, not without her just escaping."

"We let her go home." Emma answered. "We can't take her to the Sheriff station. She just won't be seeing Henry anytime soon."

Those words were enough to make Regina look up from her mother. "He's _my_ son." she snarled. "You can't do that."

"To be honest, Regina, I'm pretty sure that after kidnapping a woman, you don't have much say in this." Emma snapped back, ignoring Neal's quiet, confused questions. "Maybe you should have thought of Henry before vanishing with Cora and trying to seize control of Rumplestiltskin."

Regina tried to protest, but Emma turned her back and walked away.

~~~*~~~

Emma and Mary-Margaret had accompanied Lacey to Storybrooke General when she decided she wanted to check that her baby was alright after being teleported to Regina's vault and tied up. Mary-Margaret had waited with her, but Emma had left quickly to pick up Henry.

After promising August that they could talk another time, when Emma felt more prepared to talk about everything she'd found out since the curse broke, Emma and Henry had walked back through the forest and she'd tried to figure out what to tell him, _how_ to tell him what Regina and Cora had done.

However, when the two of them reached the loft, it became clear that any explanations would have to wait.

Neal was standing outside the loft, leaning against the wall, and when Emma met his gaze, he gave her a small, nervous smile and then turned the same expression towards Henry. Emma felt Henry looking at her, and she glanced down at him to see that he was looking for her reaction before saying anything.

"Can you give us a moment, kid?" she asked quietly. Henry nodded, glanced again at his father and then went ahead, into the apartment. Neal watched him as he walked away, only turning to Emma when the door to the loft had slammed shut. "I guess that what happened today is probably just what you were running away from, right?"

Neal sighed in response, finally pushing away from the wall and taking a few steps towards her. "Pretty much. If I didn't have anything else to stay for, I'd be getting the hell away from my papa."

"So you're staying?"

"Yeah." He told her. "For two weeks. I don't have any work booked or anything."

"You work?" Emma repeated. "That's new."

Neal actually chuckled. "Yeah. I'm a wedding photographer. It's legit and everything. I'm not too great at it, but it makes money."

"Right." Emma said awkwardly, glancing down at her hands. "Guess that makes it easy to just pick up and leave when you need to."

He exhaled loudly and shook his head. "Look, Ems, I don't want to get into that. And I bet you don't want to be doing this now either. I just wanted to… Henry. He's mine, right?"

Emma gaped at him. "Yeah. Of course. Who else's would he be?"

"Did you know?" He asked quietly. "Is that why you wanted to run away together? Why you insisted on getting those watches for me?"

"If I'd known, I'd have told you." Emma told him. "I got those watches because I thought I loved you. Nothing else. Besides, would it have mattered if you _had_ known?"

Neal opened his mouth to answer straight away, but when Emma raised her eyebrow, he faltered. "I… I don't know." At least he was being honest, even if it had taken a stern look. "Look, I'd like to talk to him."

"Okay. If it's okay with him, then okay." Emma agreed. Neal nodded, and gestured for Emma to go into the loft, but Emma hesitated. "Neal, this isn't a second chance. You know that, right? Showing up and suddenly being a father doesn't just make things right. It doesn't mean you're forgiven."

"I know." Neal stated. "I'd be a hypocrite if I expected that." That drew a smile from Emma, and he gave her a small one in return. "You know, there's something I should tell you."

"What?"

"I'm engaged." He said bluntly, and Emma blinked at him. That was the last thing she'd expected him to say, and even though she knew she had finally moved on from Neal, it still hurt to have him tell her so easily. "I can't stay in Storybrooke, even if Henry's here. But I know what it's like to have a crap dad, and I'm not going to do that."

She didn't know how to respond. It stung to hear that he'd moved on, was ready to _marry_ someone, when it had taken her _so_ long to even open herself up to the possibility of letting someone in. She wanted to say something about Killian, but what could she say? Killian didn't even remember her.

So she said nothing.

Instead, she strode past him into the loft, smiling weakly at Henry when she saw him on the couch. "Do you want to meet Neal?"

Henry nodded, stood up, and when the two of them returned to the hallway, Emma watched, chest tight, as Henry raised his hand to give his father a nervous wave.

"Hey, dad."


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 37**

Henry and Neal's first conversation hadn't lasted too long. Emma had stood by the door to the loft as they spoke in awkward, halting sentences and tried to get to know one another. Eventually, they had decided to try again the following morning, when Henry had time to prepare himself and Neal had thought of more to say.

And so, after having the best night's sleep she'd had in a while, though that wasn't saying much, Emma walked Henry to Granny's diner and the two of them joined Neal in one of the booths. It was just as uncomfortable as it had been the night before, at least until Neal brought up the original Star Wars trilogy and the two boys actually started to communicate.

After noting they seemed a little happier, Emma suggested leaving them alone to talk. Once she'd told Neal to make sure Henry got on the school bus and given her son a kiss on the forehead in goodbye, she ordered breakfast to take out instead.

She wasn't sure she liked leaving Neal and Henry alone, but Granny and Ruby both promised to keep an eye on the pair of them and that had been enough to reassure her. With two take-out containers in hand, she exited the diner and made her way towards Storybrooke General.

Even though she was slightly preoccupied with Neal and Henry, it felt nice to be walking through the hospital, to Killian, without nagging worries of any pressing dangers. Of Cora or of Rumplestiltskin. Just Killian.

He smiled at her when she entered his ward, looking up from a cardboard box on his lap just as the door swung shut. His eyes remained on her as she crossed the room to take the seat beside him and then, the moment she sat down, he lifted his hook from the box.

"Is there an explanation for this that makes sense?" He asked, amused. "I wasn't expecting to find something like this among my belongings."

She gaped at him for a second, her gaze locked on the metal hook dangling from his hand. She couldn't think of an explanation, not one that didn't come with dozens of other things to tell him. He didn't remember magic or curses, and she highly doubted he was ready to hear that he was a storybook character. What _could_ she say?

It was then that she thought she understood why Killian hadn't told her the truth about the curse. She didn't want to say anything that might make him think she was crazy, something that might drive him away.

"Not really." Emma finally answered, reaching out to pluck the attachment from his hand and return it to the box. "You just always found it easier to do things with a hook than with your wooden prosthetic." He nodded in response, although she wouldn't have been surprised if he was just humouring her, and Emma hurried to change the subject. "So, you've got your things back?"

"Yes." He told her. "Apparently, my clothes need washing and they'd rather not keep dirty clothes on the hospital grounds. Although, I'm not entirely sure what _I'm_ meant to do with them."

"I can take them." Emma offered. "I'll get them cleaned and then I can drop them off at yours. If that's alright?"

He glanced at her again, his eyebrows creased together. "Emma, you'd do that?"

"Yeah." His smile wasn't as tender as it would have been before, but it was still soft and warm, and suddenly things felt _easier_ , even if it was only because he was looking at her. She put the food aside and lifted the cardboard box off the bed, placing it down on the ground before handing him one of the take-out boxes. "I brought breakfast, by the way."

"Again?" Killian said in surprise, clumsily opening the polystyrene box with his only hand. "Do you need food as an excuse to see me?"

"No. I just know hospital food sucks."

Killian chuckled, and then, apart from an unanswered question from Killian about her day, the room was silent as they ate. Emma _wanted_ to talk, they always had when they shared meals before, but she didn't know what to say. She _wanted_ to talk about Neal, about Rumplestiltskin's murderous actions the day before, about everything that had happened since she last visited, but she just couldn't.

He wasn't the man she used to talk to.

Her fork speared through the polystyrene container at the thought, maple syrup from her pancakes leaking through onto her jeans, and she grimaced. Killian must have been watching, because seconds later, his hand was outstretched and he was handing her a napkin.

She mumbled a thank you, and once she had made a good attempt at cleaning up and finished her own breakfast, she took the two empty containers over to a bin by the door. She had only just turned round, to return to her seat, when Killian spoke and she drew to a sudden halt.

"Emma, do you know who Milah is?"

"Milah?" She repeated, her heart pounding furiously against her chest. Was he _remembering_? "You want to know who _Milah_ is? How do you know that name?"

His head canted to one side and then he held his arm out towards her, the red heart he had tattooed on his arm angled towards her. "Her name is written on me. I can't help but wonder who she is."

Killian used his stump to trace the shape of the heart, and all Emma could do was watch. Her chest felt painfully tight, and even though he was still staring at her, still waiting for an answer, she couldn't say a thing.

She'd never been troubled by his past with Milah before. They'd both had people they loved first, and he may have had Milah's name inked on his forearm, but she knew Neal had left as much of a mark on her. But in that moment, with Killian looking at her expectantly, she _hated_ the tattoo. With that on his arm, he would always know that he'd loved Milah, even if he couldn't remember her, because her name was always going to be there.

And he had nothing to remember Emma by.

Those thoughts were forced away, swallowed down, and maybe he noticed, because when Emma stopped _thinking_ , he seemed concerned.

"No, I… I never met her." Emma answered finally, still unmoving.

"Do you think she'll visit?"

"No."

"Oh. I just thought… well, that she must have been someone important." He murmured, staring back at the large tattoo. "That perhaps there was someone other than the town sheriff who cared enough to visit."

She stared at him. He couldn't think she was only there because it was her job, not when he meant _so much_ to her.

Emma took a deep breath, moved to pick up Killian's things and then, just as she was about to leave, to run away, she felt his hand on hers. " _Do_ you only visit me because you're the sheriff? Are you hoping I'll remember something?"

"No. Of course not." Emma replied immediately, his hold on her hand tightening for a moment before he let go. She adjusted her hold on the cardboard box and then hurried away, pausing in the doorway to say one more thing, without looking at him. "I'm here because I care about you."

"Emma?"

She ran away.

~~~*~~~

Emma went straight back to the loft, still distracted by the short conversation she'd shared with Killian. It was hard enough seeing him without his memories, but she hadn't been prepared for anything that he wanted to talk about.

Not that she could have told him much. Killian had mentioned Milah to her before the curse. After it had broken, he had only told her what Rumplestiltskin had done, and that wasn't something she was even _able_ to tell the amnesiac Killian.

Mary-Margaret and David were drinking coffee at the kitchen island when she wandered in, glancing up at her as the door swung shut.

"Emma?" Mary-Margaret asked, a concerned look appearing on her face as she put her coffee down and crossed the room to take the box of Killian's things from Emma. "Are you alright? You look really pale."

"I'm fine." Emma insisted, shrugging out of her leather jacket and hanging it by the door. "Really. You don't need to fuss over me. It's just… Cora can't distract me anymore."

She hadn't realised how much Cora's presence had allowed her to avoid processing everything else, not until Cora was gone. Now, she had nothing else to think of but Killian, Henry and Neal, and that wasn't something she was enjoying.

Emma needed to be busy again.

"Are you sure you weren't just using Cora as an excuse to not deal with other things?" Mary-Margaret suggested knowingly, sharing a glance with David when Emma shook her head. "I know things are very different to how they used to be."

She didn't say anything, instead moving to collapse onto the couch and dig out the file on the unknown person Cora had murdered and turned into Aurora. It was something unsolved that she could work on, something else she needed to do, and whatever Mary-Margaret said, it wasn't avoidance if it was something that actually needed to get done.

Mary-Margaret joined her on the couch, Killian's box balanced on her lap. "What's this?"

Emma glanced over to see her friend was gesturing down at Killian's things, and Emma shrugged. "The hospital finally gave Killian his things. I said I'd take them back to the Jolly Roger for him, but his clothes need washing and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a washing machine. I figured I'd do that first."

"I can do it soon." Mary-Margaret offered. "If that would be easier?"

Emma shrugged, focusing back on the folder in her hand. The lack of a response seemed to be taken as agreement, because Mary-Margaret took the box over to the washing machine, leaving it balanced on top before busying herself with sorting out her own clothes.

She didn't say it out loud, but Emma was glad Mary-Margaret had taken it upon herself to help. No matter what she told Killian, Emma didn't want to sort through clothes covered with mud and dirt and Killian's blood, didn't want to hold _any_ reminders of that night.

But she couldn't read the folder for long. David came over and plucked it from her hands. "I can look into it." He told her. "You need some sleep."

"I don't."

"When did you last sleep through the night?"

Emma gaped up at him, ready to protest, but she couldn't come up with an answer. Since Henry had been cursed, she couldn't think of a single night that she'd slept through. Sleeping had been almost impossible in the Enchanted Forest, and after returning, she'd spent one night catching up with Henry and the other with Killian. And then Cora murdered someone, Killian got hit by a car and she was forced on a trip to New York.

"It's been weeks." She admitted quietly. "I think the last time I had a decent sleep was the night I spent with Killian and even then-"

"Yes, yes, there wasn't that much sleeping involved." David said hurriedly, shaking his head. "I don't need to know the details."

"Even then, I woke up early to get back in time to take Henry to school." Emma finished, rolling her eyes at David's eagerness to avoid any thought of her and Killian together. "But I don't think I'll be able to just give you the file and fall asleep."

"It's worth a try."

She grimaced, but David had a point, and she handed the folder over. He smiled in response, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss her forehead, and for some reason, that made her chest feel just as tight as Killian's questions had.

And she thought it would take longer to get to sleep - there were so many things she hadn't allowed herself time to think about - but even with the light still streaming through the window, she started to drift off.

It felt like she had only just switched off, when a gentle shake of her shoulder woke her back up. Mary-Margaret was sat on the side of the bed, something in her hand and a nervous expression on her face.

"Sorry about waking you." She murmured quietly, and Emma rolled onto her side. "I was checking the pockets in Hook's clothes, so I could put them in the wash, and I found something. I think it's for you."

"For me?"

Mary-Margaret pressed what felt like a thick, torn piece of paper into her hand, gave her a sad smile and then retreated back downstairs.

Emma had no idea what Mary-Margaret could have found that would be meant for her, especially when it felt crumpled and small, but she _was_ curious. She glanced down at it, frowning when it seemed to be the end of a letter, written in Killian's sloping, neat cursive. It had clearly been torn from a full letter, the ripped edge of the paper cutting through words and leaving her with only the end of sentences.

******_the full truth, I_**  
**_spite my fear that the truth_**  
**_what I feel for you is beyond description.  
_ _elieved I could feel again._**

**_hance to tell you that in person._ **

**_don you, but Rumplestiltskin has  
_ _ish I didn’t have to say goodbye._ **

**_Always yours,  
_ _Killian_ **

Why had Killian had this in his pocket? Emma read over it several times, but with half of the sentences missing, it was difficult to imagine what Killian had wanted the letter to say, except that it seemed to be a farewell. Had he gone to the town line knowing what Rumplestiltskin had intended to do? She couldn't believe that. He wouldn't have gone if he knew he'd be taken from her, although the name Rumplestiltskin, written so harshly into the paper that there were a few holes, brought with it a slight doubt that she hadn't had before.

' _What I feel for you is beyond description.'_ Her throat felt thick, choked with sobs she refused to voice and she crumpled the note up in her hand. She couldn't stay in the loft, not when she knew Mary-Margaret had read the note and would be smothering her with concern the instant she could no longer hold it in. And once Mary-Margaret did that, Emma was certain she wouldn't be able to hold back tears.

Emma didn't want to cry.

So she got out of bed, and dashed out of the loft, ignoring her mother's worried calls after her, pausing only when she was standing in the doorway.

"Can you… look after Henry today?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling. "I need some time alone."

"What?" Mary-Margaret asked, taking a step towards Emma. "Are you sure?"

"Can you look after Henry or not?"

"We'll pick him up from school." David spoke up from the couch, sending her a gentle smile when she glanced over at him. "I can give him another sword-fighting lesson. Take as much time as you need, just let us know when you'll be coming back."

"Thanks." She breathed, and then stepped out of the loft and slammed the door shut.

She didn't go any further, sagging against the wall of the hallway once the loft door was closed, but she felt less trapped than she had only seconds before, with the threat of Mary-Margaret's concern no longer as pressing.

After several deep breaths, she flattened out the crumpled note and reread it, her mind stuck on the same few words that had distracted her before. She wanted to know more, wanted the entire letter instead of the scrap Killian had decided to keep with him, and she turned the paper over just in case there was an explanation on the other side.

There was, although it wasn't what Emma had expected. Killian had scrawled the words 'Cabin Window Measurements' along the back, followed by a few numbers. She remembered how the wraith had smashed into his cabin, how they'd slept in his crew quarters instead of his own room during the one night they'd shared since returning.

Getting it fixed was the least she could do.

~~~*~~~

It had taken less time than Emma had expected to organise for someone to fix the windows of the Jolly Roger. The glazier had promised by the end of the day that at least one of the sheets of glass would be replaced, the remaining windows boarded up until the rest could be completed.

She'd told her parents that she wanted to be alone, but now that she was by herself, she was too aware that all the thoughts she'd been determinedly ignoring were suddenly a lot harder not to listen to. She _didn't_ want to be alone, she just didn't want to talk. And Mary-Margaret wasn't someone to let things go easily.

So even though going to talk to August was something she wasn't exactly looking forward too, it seemed like a better idea than a solo walk along the coast and Emma soon found herself wandering out of Storybrooke and through the surrounding forest.

Emma had to admit, she was growing sick of walking between trees and clambering over roots. One week of it in the Enchanted Forest had been more than enough, no matter how much Mary-Margaret and David seemed to miss it.

Why someone would want to return to a land with no cars, no hot chocolate and, worst of all, no decent plumbing was beyond her. The thought was a good distraction, and Emma started to list all the things that the Enchanted Forest didn't have, things that she'd choose over living in a storybook castle if she was ever given the choice.

She was just wondering whether or not the Enchanted Forest even had anything like jeans when she glimpsed someone else between the trees.

"Hey!" she called out, raising her eyebrows when she saw the figure freeze and look towards her. "You looking for something?"

Emma ran over before whoever it was could move away. She doubted August wanted anyone else finding him, and there wasn't much else in the forest except for the few fairytale characters who had chosen to live there instead of in town.

It wasn't a place where you ran into other people.

"You're the Sheriff, right?" She wasn't expecting it to be Greg Mendell. It was surprising he was even out of hospital, especially after how urgent everything had been when he was rushed in. "Is there something going on?"

She couldn't bring herself to give him a friendly smile, not when he seemed fine and Killian was still in hospital with grazes on his face and broken ribs. "That's me. The Sheriff."

"Why are you out here?"

"Why are you?" Emma replied. "There's not much out here. If I were you, I'd be going back to Pennsylvania instead of wandering the woods. Aren't there people you have to get back to?"

Greg straightened up, fixing her with an uncomfortably intense stare, and then he shrugged. "I'm hiking. And taking photographs of Maine's scenic beauty."

"Yeah, well, I've been here a while now and there's probably not enough to last for more than a weekend break." She lied, suddenly remembering that they wanted Greg out of the town as quickly as possible. They didn't want him roaming the woods and running into something ridiculous like the old woman who lived in a shoe. "Trust me. I've done the forest walks and the coastal walks and the most exciting thing to see is the Sardine Factory."

"Oh, I don't know." Greg told her. "There's always more to these small towns than meets the eye."

"Don't hold your breath."

Greg chuckled. "I guess I'll just have to find out for myself." He stated. "I'm sure I'll see you around, Sheriff."

He walked past her, back in the direction of Storybrooke, and Emma waited until she couldn't see him between the trees before continuing towards August's trailer.

There was something she didn't like about Greg Mendell, and Emma tended to trust her instincts, but she was aware enough to know that after he'd hurt Killian, she was never going to like him. Still, she was certain that wasn't the only thing about him that made her uneasy. If she hadn't known he'd ended up in Storybrooke by accident, she'd think he was up to something.

Then again, Emma didn't know if you _could_ drive into Storybrooke accidentally. Henry had told her many times that people didn't visit Storybrooke, even if Leroy had insisted that the curse breaking would put an end to that.

Emma didn't know much about magic, but she did know that there was something keeping it in Storybrooke, keeping _everyone_ and their memories in Storybrooke. If something was keeping people in, why wouldn't there still be something keeping people out?

She didn't know the answer, and there was no way to find it out. All she did know was that she _really_ didn't like him.

It wasn't much further to August's trailer, and to her surprise, he opened the door after only a couple of knocks.

"I saw you coming." He stated as she stepped past him, into the small room. "Do you want something to eat? I have… I have cornflakes. That's it."

Emma raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Where did you even get those? I didn't think you'd been into Storybrooke since the curse broke." she asked. "They didn't come with the trailer, did they?"

"I stocked up when the magic came and I could move again." He told her, slowly lowering himself onto the couch. "No one saw me because they were all too busy worrying and reuniting. I got enough to last for a couple of weeks, but I couldn't carry much. Not that I need to eat much now."

"Yeah, I wasn't going ask how things work now that you're all…" she trailed off, shook her head and then restarted. "Look, I need to talk to you."

"About Neal?"

"Yeah. I want to know what happened." She stated. "I figured you'd be better to ask. I mean, Neal told me that you came to him and you told him I was the saviour. Was that really all it took to drive him away? Was that really what needed to be done?"

"It's been ten years." August started, glancing down at his hands instead of looking at Emma. "I've thought about that day a lot, especially over the last few months. There had to have been a better way. I should have spoken to you, instead of going to Neal, but I knew he'd believe me. Honestly, Emma, I just wanted to do what I had promised. To get you to Storybrooke, to break the curse. I wasn't thinking about you at all. It's not nice but it's the truth."

"I wanted the truth." Emma said, and although she should be angry, she wasn't. Not when August was being so up-front and honest about everything. "But you still haven't answered my questions."

"He didn't want to leave. Not until I brought his father into it." August told her. "As soon as I mentioned that Rumplestiltskin would be here, and that you were destined to break the curse, he left. I was persuasive though. I wanted to get you to Storybrooke, and once I'd figured out who Neal was, I knew he wouldn't help. He… _we_ decided it was best for you to take the fall for Neal's crime so that he could get far away and you couldn't follow him. When I think about it now, I don't know why that seemed the best option. I should have stayed with you and helped you, even if Neal wouldn't."

Emma took a deep breath. As much as she valued the truthfulness, it wasn't easy to hear. "So what did you do then? Just go on with your life as though you hadn't ruined mine?"

"Emma, I know I was selfish." August admitted. "I was always told to be selfless, brave and true and that if I wasn't, I'd stop being a real boy. You can see very easily just how badly I failed at that. I was young and I was stupid and I believed that as long as Neal wasn't there to keep you from your destiny, I'd done what I was meant to do."

"Did you see him after that?" she asked. "Or was it just 'let's screw Emma over and never talk again'?"

"I saw him. Twice." August seemed even guiltier suddenly, and Emma didn't want to know why, even though she _needed_ to. "Once, soon after you were taken to Phoenix. He wanted to know if you were okay so that he could move on. He gave me the car and the money from the watches and he told me to give them to you."

"The money from the watches?" Emma repeated. "I never got any money."

"No… I guess that's another thing to make up for. Even though I don't have enough to pay you back, I can try."

"No." Emma said firmly, ignoring how his painted eyes widened in surprise. "I don't want to know how much money I didn't get."

She couldn't know. She'd given Henry up for adoption because she was in prison, alone, and with no money to raise a child with, if she could even figure out how do that. She didn't want to know that she could have had enough, that August's thievery could have cost her more than he could even imagine.

August stared at her and then seemed to take a deep breath, although his chest didn't move. "I saw him again just before I came to Storybrooke. I told him I'd send him a postcard when the curse was broken, so that if he wanted, he could come and see you again. I sent the postcard."

"But he didn't come." Emma finished. "He's moved on. _I've_ moved on."

"I really am sorry, Emma. Even if it's not enough."

~~~*~~~

She hadn't spent much more time with August. There wasn't much more she could say to him, she didn't _want_ to say anything to him. August was a friend, even after everything, but one she couldn't spend time with, not if she wanted it to stay that way.

She didn't have the same concerns when it came to Neal. They had never been friends, had jumped straight into a relationship, and even though he had crashed back into her life, she couldn't see them forging any relationship beyond being civil to one another.

All she wanted to know was if, when he got the postcard, he had even cared.

Neal was halfway through a cheeseburger when she found him at Granny's. He looked out of place, sat by himself in the corner booth and distracted by his cellphone, and he only looked up at her after she had sat in front of him and cleared her throat.

"Oh, hey." He said, around a mouthful of food. "I actually wanted to find you after I'd had lunch."

"Find _me_?"

"Yeah. I thought you should know Tamara's gonna come down to Storybrooke." He said, ignoring the way Emma gaped at him in response. "She said she's going to fly to Boston tomorrow morning and get a hire car."

"Really? You've been in Storybrooke a day and she's already invited along?" Emma questioned. One non-storybook character in Storybrooke was enough, and she didn't need to be worrying about Neal's fiancé as well as Greg Mendell. "Don't you want more time with just Henry?"

"I want to spend more time with Henry, yeah. But Tamara's my fiancé, so she'll be part of Henry's life too."

"I guess… but what are you going to tell her when she sees a werewolf running down Main Street? That it's just a really large dog?" Emma asked angrily. "Did you even think this through at all?"

"Okay, so maybe I didn't think it all the way through." Neal admitted, after taking a few more bites of his lunch. "I just… I need her. This thing, with Henry and with my papa, it's crazy. I want her with me."

"Have you told her the truth? Does she have any idea what she's driving into?"

"It's not like I thought I'd ever have to mention it."

"Well, make sure to tell her before she finds out from someone else."

"You're right." Neal sighed, his head falling into his hands. "God, that's gonna be a hell of a conversation. Anyway, what did _you_ want? I'm guessing you didn't sit with me for no reason."

"I saw August this morning. He told me about the postcard."

Neal raised his head up and gaped at her. "He's here? I haven't seen him around."

"You've been here a day. Besides, he's more reclusive than he used to be." Emma told him. "Now, did it get lost in the mail or did you ignore it?"

"I didn't _ignore_ it." Neal stated. "I read it. I was happy for you when I read it. That you'd found your family again and done what you were meant to do. But it's been ten years and I'm not the guy I was when we were robbing convenience stores and sneaking into motel rooms. I didn't think you'd want to see me and I… well, I was with Tamara. What was the point of me coming here?"

"You don't need to make excuses. Honestly, after everything, I'd hardly be surprised if you had just picked the postcard up and thrown it in the trash." Emma really didn't need him to try and spare her feelings, not when he couldn't hurt her any worse than he already had a decade ago. "And I get it. It has been ten years. We've both moved on. Come on, you couldn't have thought I was sitting around and hoping that I'd find you again?"

Neal shrugged awkwardly, his fingers playing with the edge of his paper napkin, and then it seemed like he was going to speak, except it took a bit longer than usual for him to find the words. "Henry said, this morning, that you were in love with someone called Killian. I'd heard Belle mention the name during all of the craziness yesterday but I hadn't… look, he didn't mean Captain Hook, did he?"

"It's not really your business, is it?" Emma snapped. "But yeah, I'm seeing Captain Hook. I've seen a _whole_ lot of Captain Hook."

Neal gaped at her, and Emma felt far more amused by his reaction than she probably should. After a few seconds, he shook his head and managed to speak. "Not my business? Emma, he killed my mother."

"Oh, come on. Milah loved him and Rumplestiltskin killed her for it." Emma told him. "I know Killian's done terrible things. He's never hidden that from me, and if I asked for any details, he'd tell me. But don't blame him for _that_. I'm not ignorant. I know exactly who Killian is, so please don't try and waste my time by telling them that that's not true."

"He gave me to the Lost Boys." Neal hissed. "Did he tell you that?"

She swallowed. She _hadn't_ known that, although he had told her enough about Peter Pan for her to guess the sort of people that comprised the Lost Boys. "He told me you chose to leave."

"I did. I guess he left out the part when he decided that instead of letting me do that, he handed me to Pan."

It wasn't a great thing to hear, but the only reason he hadn't told her was that she hadn't let him. The only time they'd even broached the subject of his time with Milah's son, with Neal, she'd stopped him from continuing. She'd known how much it hurt to not be chosen, and she hadn't wanted him to relive the memories just for her. She remembered how Killian had been struggling to find the words, and even though they'd had the conversation before the curse had been broken, she knew he'd have told her what he could. If she'd let him.

"Well, it looks like you got away."

"Does that change anything?" Neal asked incredulously. "He's still a murderer and a thief and a liar-"

"And he means a lot to me." Emma interrupted. "He might be a pirate, but he's _never_ hurt me the way you did. He's never lied to me like you have. He was as honest as he could be, even when there was _so_ much I wouldn't believe."

"But he's-"

"I don't care."

Neal shook his head again, clearly frustrated. "So you're in love with him then?"

"Whatever I feel for him has nothing to do with you." she told him, but Neal seemed to take that as answer enough. "And whatever you think of Killian, you have to accept that."

"Accept that?" Neal protested. "You're letting him spend time with _our_ son. I get to have an opinion when it comes to that."

"No, you don't." Emma said simply. "You met him yesterday."

She'd had enough of Neal and the idea that he was somehow entitled to a part in Henry's life. So she ignored his attempts to correct his words and stood from the booth, ignoring the way he called after her. She only walked a few steps down Main Street, out of view of the diner, before stopping and breathing heavily.

She missed Killian so much, but it hadn't felt as heavy and overwhelming until she'd sat and told Neal why Killian meant so much to her, why she _loved_ him. She wished he could be there with her, that they could go and have lunch together and Neal could see that whatever sort of man he thought Killian was, he was a man who made her _happy_.

~~~*~~~

The rest of the day had been spent at the Sheriff's Department. David may have insisted on taking the murder case off her hands, but he couldn't stop her from checking through the missing person reports to see if she could identify who the victim might be.

She hadn't exactly planned to spend so many hours there, but the amount of reports seemed to have increased drastically since the curse had broken, dozens of people having reported missing family and friends. Even narrowing things down to reports arriving from the day they returned hadn't helped much, although it had been mind-numbingly boring, which Emma had found calming.

It was getting dark outside by the time she had left, and after sending a text to David to ask if it was alright if she stayed the night somewhere other than the loft, she picked up a lasagne from Granny's and wandered through the familiar back alleys on her way to the docks.

Staying the night on the Jolly Roger had just been an idea she'd toyed with as she worked, but the longer she thought about it, the more she wanted it.

His cabin was cold with only one window replaced and the other two boarded up, a draft still getting through the cracked frames, but Emma didn't care. She wrapped his blanket around herself and sat at his small table to eat her dinner and then, once she was done, she busied herself with attempting to tidy up.

Two weeks without windows had left his oil lamp shattered on the floor, his papers blown all around the room, and once she'd picked up all the broken glass, she collected the letters into a loose pile and stored them in a drawer in the corner. The rest of the letter, the one he'd torn to write down the window measurements, was nowhere to be found, although she'd only realised she was looking for it once all the papers were put away.

And then, even though it was still early evening, she dressed herself in one of his shirts, latched the door shut, and curled up in Killian's bed.

It didn't really smell like him. The room was seeped in the smell of salt air, the cold, fresh breeze from the window left her nose tingling, but Killian had always smelled slightly of the sea, so it was comforting enough.

She reread the incomplete note by the light of her phone and then one more time before she started to drift off. Her phone fell to the mattress next to her, and she wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself.

She dreamed she was standing in darkness, Neal, Mary-Margaret and David before her.

"We had to do what was best for you." They chorussed, as they turned their backs to her and started to fade away. "We're the ones who know what's best for you."

Then there was metal around her wrists, someone's cold hands locking the handcuffs into place. She twisted to see August stood behind her, his face wooden and his nose growing longer and longer. "This is what you need."

And then the handcuffs clicked in place and she was alone. Trapped. Until she wasn't anymore. She could feel Killian there, his hands holding her waist, holding her to him, her back to his chest, as he pressed kisses to her now-bare shoulders. Each kiss felt light, just a brush of his lips to her skin, and then he turned her round, his face the only thing she could see in the darkness.

He kept kissing her, each soft kiss pressed everywhere but her lips, and between the kisses, he murmured words to her, whispered the words of the letter.

"What I feel for you is beyond description." He whispered as he kissed her temple, and again when his kisses started to move along her collarbone. "I wish I didn't have to say goodbye." And then, just before he actually kissed her, his lips only a few millimetres from hers, although she couldn't feel his breath, he whispered something else. "I love you."

It was only then the handcuffs fell away, and she clutched at him. He was everywhere, _surrounding_ her, and he wouldn't stop repeating the same words, over and over again. She couldn't say anything, felt as though her mouth was glued stuck and she couldn't speak. She didn't know what she'd say, but it hurt that she couldn't reply to him, and then, when her mouth finally opened and she could _finally_ speak-

She woke up, sweating and shaking and _freezing_. And alone.

And then she finally cried.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 38**

Despite the exhaustion she felt once she finally stopped crying, she couldn't seem to get back to sleep. She'd hoped that being on the Jolly Roger, in Killian's bed, in his _clothes_ , would be what finally let her sleep through the night, but she hadn't counted on what would happen once she had the time to think.

She missed him so much. She hadn't realised how comforting it was to have someone who would listen and reassure her, not until she didn't have that anymore, although Mary-Margaret tried her hardest.

And it was lying alone on the ship that made it sink in just how much she missed him. During the day, Henry and Mary-Margaret, even David, were always there, but Killian was the one she would have spent the night with. If he remembered, if he still cared for her, she'd have been able to escape the chaos and lose herself in him.

Although they'd only spent a couple of full nights tangled together, that moment, alone in his bed, she'd have given anything to have him back.

She hated being so restless, but she couldn't stay on the ship anymore. She didn't care what time it was, didn't care that it was nearing dawn and, once again, she was wide awake. Emma tugged her jeans on, but kept Killian's shirt instead of shrugging her own jumper back on.

Storybrooke was deserted. Even the Rabbit Hole was closed, leaving Main Street unnaturally quiet. Emma moved quickly down it, taking the main roads instead of the quicker back alleys, and once she was back at the apartment building, she was surprised to see, through the gap under the door, that there was still a light on in the loft.

David was sat on the couch, a bowl in his hand, and he looked up when she stepped inside.

"Emma?"

"What are you doing up?" she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the curtain separating Mary-Margaret and David's bed from the main room. "It's four in the morning."

"I could ask you the same."

"You weren't waiting up for me, were you?" She asked quietly, joining him on the couch. "I told you I wasn't going to be home until tomorrow."

"No. I… Well, don't tell Mary-Margaret, but I wanted some ice cream." He answered sheepishly, glancing down at the slightly melted chocolate dessert that was in the bowl he was holding. "Turns out murder investigations make me pretty hungry."

"She probably already knows." Emma told him, getting up to fetch a spoon before returning to his side and stealing a spoonful of ice cream. "Why else would we have chocolate ice cream in the freezer?"

David seemed surprised by the realisation, but his expression soon softened and he looked over towards the curtain, clearly touched. "That's true." he murmured. "Just another thing to add to the unending list of things I love about her."

Emma sent him a tight smile in return, his easy declaration sending a pang of jealousy through her. She wished she could have something as simple and certain as her parents did, but it was looking like that wasn't in the cards for her.

"Why _are_ you here?" David questioned eventually, after she'd taken another few mouthfuls of his snack. "I thought you might be sleeping at Granny's, but you look even tireder than you did yesterday. Not to mention that you're up at this hour."

"I was on the Jolly Roger." She admitted. "I thought maybe I'd sleep better there."

"Doesn't look like it worked."

"Yeah, I… well, I couldn't stay there any longer." She told him. "I woke up and it wasn't where I wanted to be anymore."

David nodded understandingly, and then he abandoned his snack so that he could wrap his arm around Emma's shoulder and tug her gently against his side. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She insisted, but when he raised his eyebrow, Emma shook her head. "I guess seeing August didn't really help things."

"August?" David repeated. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that I ended up having a few conversations yesterday with him, and Neal, that I don't think helped when it came to sleeping." She said with a shrug, as though it hadn't been about things she'd spent years dwelling on. "And it's always a bit unnerving to see your friend made entirely of wood."

"I'm sorry, what?" David said incredulously. "When did _that_ happen? _How_ did that happen?"

"According to August, since I arrived in Storybrooke." Emma stated. "And since he's Pinocchio, I guess he was actually wood first. But, really, it's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

He didn't seem to buy it, because he pulled her close and kissed her temple. "Do you think you'll be able to get any sleep before morning? I'll try if you do." Emma only shrugged. "Hey, I do get it, you know? I barely slept when I was made a prince. Everything was suddenly different and I had a lot of things to deal with that I'd never even had to think about before. If I'd had to cope with something like that, as well as something happening to Snow, I wouldn't be sleeping either."

"What are you-?"

"I know it sounds like I'm complaining about becoming a prince, but I went from being a farm-boy to having King George threatening my mother and insisting I marry Abigail. Kathryn. Or whatever name she's going by now. Not to mention that the first thing I had to do when that whole mess started was kill a _dragon_."

"Well, I've been there." Emma mumbled, managing a small smile when David chuckled quietly. "Is it bad that I'm just waiting for the day when things won't be so crazy? Or that every time I try to sleep, part of me is wondering what the hell I'm going to wake up to next?"

David took in a deep breath and released her, twisting on the couch so that he was facing her. "It's not bad. It makes sense. But how about, for the rest of tonight, just remember that I've got your back. Whatever happens tomorrow, I'll be there to help."

It wasn't something Emma had been told so explicitly before, and she was tired enough to only manage a shaky, appreciative smile in response. He returned the smile, and then nudged her, nodding over at the staircase up to her room.

"Try to sleep." He repeated. "And if you do, don't worry about waking up to take Henry to school. Mary-Margaret will take him. She's going in anyway."

Emma doubted she would sleep that long, but she nodded and let him walk her over towards the stairs and give her another soft smile in goodnight. She crept up to her room, careful not to wake Henry as she passed his small bed tucked against the wall. Once she was in bed, she wriggled out her jeans, once again only in Killian's shirt, and as soon as David turned off the light downstairs, she felt herself finally drifting off to sleep.

~~~*~~~

It was a ringtone that woke her, and Emma grumbled to herself as she rolled over to grab her phone. It wasn't too early in the morning - she could already hear Henry puttering around the loft and getting ready for school - but she'd have preferred to sleep for longer.

Especially when she saw that it was a message from Neal that had woken her up.

She groaned, wishing she hadn't given Neal her number, and then opened the text. Apparently Tamara would be arriving in Storybrooke sometime in the next hour, and he was hoping that she and Henry would be able to join them for breakfast at Granny's.

It hardly sounded like an enjoyable start to the day, but if Neal was serious about being a part of Henry's life, then he'd have to meet Tamara eventually. And she would rather be there with him when he did.

"Hey, kid?" she called, clambering out of bed and peering down at the rest of her family. "You had breakfast yet?"

He had a box of cereal ready to pour, paused in midair when he looked up at her and shook his head. "I thought you were sleeping in?" He asked, abandoning the cereal on the kitchen island and bounding back up the stairs, arriving on the top floor just as Emma had pulled on a pair of jeans. "Why are you up?"

"Your dad wants us to join him and his fiancée for breakfast. Apparently, she's bringing bagels." Emma told him. "You want to go?"

Henry shrugged, sitting down on the end of Emma's bed and staying quieter than she'd ever seen him. She scowled and sat beside him, watching him in concern as he fidgeted slightly. "I guess so." He answered eventually. "Why is she coming today?"

"I think he wanted you to meet her. She's important to him." She told him, watching him for his response and frowning when he just grimaced. "Henry, is everything okay? I haven't… I guess we haven't had a chance to talk much since the curse broke. Not really."

They hadn't, not even after she'd made it back from the Enchanted Forest. They'd spent the day together after she returned, making tacos and sharing stories from their time apart, but since then, there'd been Cora and then Neal and, although they'd talked about that, there was so much more they hadn't even begun to discuss.

He swallowed and looked up at her. "I just thought we'd get happy endings when the curse broke." He admitted. "But… people don't seem that happy. You're not."

"Because things aren't that easy, as much as I wish I could say otherwise." Emma told him, slinging her arm around his shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. "Trust me, I'd like a happy ending too, but it looks like it might take a bit more work to get one."

He was quiet, so Emma ruffled his hair and smiled down at him. He turned to look up at her, and then smiled back. "You _are_ going to get one, you know? A happy ending. Killian will remember. He has to. He's your prince."

And even though they both knew he was wrong, that Prince Charles _wasn't_ Killian, she couldn't deny it. "Yeah, I guess he is."

Henry's grin widened. "So he'll remember. And then you'll be happy."

"And you?" Emma asked. "Your happy ending's important too."

Her son stared at her for a moment and then glanced down at the floor, shrugging his shoulders again. "I miss my mom. I don't want to. She tried to kill you, and she took Lacey, and she made me think I was crazy even though I was right. But I still miss her."

Emma didn't know what to say. Henry seemed confused by what he was saying, and although she wanted to comfort him, she didn't want to say anything that might excuse what Regina had done. So she just stayed quiet.

"She lied to me." Henry continued. "I was the only one at school who grew up and she tried to make me think _I_ was crazy."

"She thought, if you knew about the cure, that you'd find a way to break it." Emma said carefully. "She wanted to keep things the way they were. But what she did was wrong. Evil."

"But she wasn't always the Evil Queen." Henry protested. "I've read the storybook. I know about Daniel, and Cora. Why couldn't she be good for me?"

Emma took a deep breath. She understood why Henry missed her. Regina had been a part of his life for as long as Henry could remember. But unless Henry suggested it himself, Emma wasn't willing to ask if he wanted to spend time with his adoptive mother.

"Henry…"

"She promised me that she would change." Henry continued. "But the first thing she did after Rumplestiltskin gave her magic back was break out of the Sheriff's station and try to kill whoever came back from the Enchanted Forest. But I still want to see her."

It was the last thing she had wanted him to say, but if that was the way he felt, she just wanted him to be happy.

"If that's what you want, we can work something out." Emma suggested, slightly begrudgingly. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Henry actually smiled. "Would you?"

"Of course." Emma promised easily. She didn't want Henry and Regina left alone, but she was glad Henry had wanted the same thing. "Do you feel any better?"

The kid fidgeted, as though deciding whether or not he wanted to say any more, and then he nodded. "Yeah. I guess. I miss my room as well though."

Emma laughed, ruffling his hair again as she looked over at his small bed, pushed against the wall at the top of the stairs. "I don't blame you. This place isn't exactly made for four of us. It definitely feels crowded sometimes."

"I mean, I do _like_ it here." Henry said hurriedly. "I like being with you and Grandma and Gramps, but-"

"You need more space. I get it." Emma interrupted. "Once everything's calmer, we'll sort something out. I love you, Henry, but we don't need to share a room forever."

Henry grinned up at her, and then seemed to decide that he was done with their unplanned, and surprisingly serious, early morning discussion. "So, can we go to breakfast with Dad? And his fiancée?"

She glanced over at him, part of her wishing he'd forgotten about Neal's request for just long enough that they wouldn't have time to join him before Henry needed to get to school. Still, she took a deep breath and then just nodded.

"Yeah, sure. If you want." Emma agreed. "Just give me a few minutes to get showered and we'll head to Granny's. Make sure you've got everything for school because you'll be going there straight after we've eaten."

"Five minutes?"

"Five minutes."

~~~*~~~

Tamara was already with Neal when Emma and Henry arrived at the Bed and Breakfast. Granny showed the two of them to the small lounge on the first floor, and although Henry bounded quickly into the room, Emma paused in the doorway.

She didn't know what she'd expected, but Tamara wasn't it. Smartly-dressed, beautiful, and a far cry from the sort of person Emma had been back when she and Neal had been together. It was a strange reminder of what Neal had tried to tell her, that he had changed and she didn't know how she felt about it. The woman was helping herself to the spread of bagels laid out before her, sat just slightly further away from Neal than Emma would have thought, although Neal _did_ have his arm slung around the back of her chair.

Neal greeted Henry with a fist bump, and it was only after he'd prepared half a bagel for his son that he turned his attention to Emma.

"You look awful." He said, ignoring how Emma rolled her eyes. "Rough night?"

"No more than usual." She answered sharply, sitting down in the empty armchair opposite the couple. "I'm sure I'll be fine after food and a hot cocoa."

"A hot cocoa?" Neal repeated, looking over at the three takeaway cups in the centre of the table. "I didn't realise… I got you a latte. I thought that-"

"You forgot." Emma said bluntly. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting you to remember. I'll just pick one up on my way to see Killian."

Neal's jaw tensed and he shook his head slightly, and for a moment, Emma thought he was going to say something in front of Henry. Tamara interrupted before he had the chance.

"Well, _I_ like lattes." Tamara stated, reaching out to take one of the drinks. "And after getting up early to get a flight here, I'm happy to drink more than one."

But even Tamara's attempt to lighten the mood was unable to stop the four of them from falling into an awkward silence. Henry tried to break it, talking to his father about school, films and sword-fighting, but once he brought up how Killian had promised to teach him how to sail the Jolly Roger, Emma realized that not even Henry could save things. Not when Tamara was looking confused, and Neal seemed to be wavering between anger and, for some reason, a kind of gloominess.

So Emma inhaled deeply, forced a smile onto her face and then caught Tamara's attention. "So, how did you guys meet?"

It took a moment, but Tamara beamed and turned to look at Neal, whose own expression was just as soft. "Well, I was super late to work, rushing like crazy, guzzling my _giant_ coffee, when this guy crashed into me." She nodded towards Neal, the two of them chuckling at the memory. "My coffee soaked my blouse. There was no time to change, so Neal gave me his scarf to hide the stains."

"Then I told her that she could keep the scarf or call me if she wanted to give it back." Neal continued. "A couple of days later, she called and, well…"

"We've been together ever since." Tamara finished. "And a few weeks ago…"

She wiggled her hand in Emma's direction, the light from the window catching on her engagement ring, but whatever reaction she was looking for, Emma refused to give it. Instead, she just smiled politely at Tamara, her own hand gripping at the coin hanging from her neck, at the reminder that it wasn't just Tamara with a piece of jewelry that meant something.

"Sounds like fate." she commented. "Now, as much fun as this is, I need to get Henry on the bus to school and I want to pick up a couple of hot cocoa's before I visit Killian."

"Killian?"

"Oh, he's-"

"He's Mom's true love." Henry interrupted with a beaming grin. Neal looked a bit sick at the kid's declaration, and Emma didn't even want to refute that claim, not when Neal and Tamara had just been exchanging lovestruck smiles and telling them about their meet-cute.

Part of her didn't want to refute it at all, except that realisation was new and _terrifying_ , so she pushed the thought away.

"And on _that_ note," she stated, standing up from the armchair. "We really need to go."

Henry stood up, a bagel still in his hand, and after waving goodbye to his dad and Tamara, the two of them wandered through the bed and breakfast and into the diner. Emma ordered two hot cocoa's from Granny, but before she got them, the school bus pulled up outside and she had to rush Henry to it, leaving him with a kiss to the forehead.

"You still want two cocoas?" Granny asked when Emma stepped back into the diner, gesturing to the steaming cups on the counter. "Or just one?"

~~~*~~~

"Miss Swan?" Dr Whale's voice called out for her as she wandered through the corridors of Storybrooke General. "Miss Swan, can I have a word?"

She turned to see him hurrying towards her, frowning slightly when she saw Ruby following him. When the two reached her, they stood in silence until Emma raised an expectant eyebrow. "What's the word?" she prompted. "If you tell me that it's not visiting hours right now, you should know that I don't care."

"No, it's not that." Whale stated. "It's just that the nurse was with Hook last night, and-"

"He's fine, right?" Emma interrupted. "You're supposed to call me if anything happens, remember?"

"And we _will_. It was just a routine check to make sure his ribs are healing well and to see how he's feeling." Whale told her. "The problem is that he asked her when he's going to be released. He wants to go home, even if he can't remember it."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that he doesn't remember anything." Ruby said. "How are you going to explain the Jolly Roger? Are you going to tell him the truth about who he is, who we all are? Once he's out of the hospital, he's going to need to know."

"Okay, so we keep him here a few more days."

"And if, in a few more days, Mother Superior hasn't found a way to bring his memories back, we release him anyway?"

Emma had forgotten about Mother Superior's attempts to fix Killian's amnesia. It had only been mentioned once, before everything went crazy, but she couldn't believe she hadn't remembered that there might be a way to restore his memories, to have him _know_ her again.

"Yeah. We can't keep him here forever." Emma agreed. "A few more days, and then you can release him. I'll explain everything if I have to. I just hope it doesn't come to that."

Dr Whale nodded. "Next time I see the nurse, I'll tell her to make sure Hook knows he's going to be here for just a bit longer. Now, how about you go talk to your boyfriend and Ruby and I can finally grab a coffee?"

Emma watched the two of them walk away, Whale's arm around Ruby's shoulder, and then continued through the stark, white corridors to Killian's room.

He was actually out of bed when she arrived, sitting instead in a large chair in the corner of the room. Lacey was with him, perched on the edge of the bed, and apparently talking about her latest trip to the doctors. Killian seemed far less interested than he would have been with memories, but Emma could tell from the polite smile on his face that he was hoping Lacey wouldn't notice.

Not that Emma was listening either. She was too distracted by Killian. He looked so much better now that he wasn't lying in bed, although he was still dressed in the hospital gown, his left arm still tied up in a sling. His hand rested against his ribs, and his breathing seemed slightly pained, but the grazes on his face were less angry.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." She said quietly, during a pause in Lacey's speech. The other woman hadn't been able to see Emma enter, and she jumped at the words, twisting around to look at Emma. Killian just smirked. "I felt like a visit."

"It's fine." Lacey promised. "I was actually just about to go. I have some things to sort out at the library and…"

She trailed off, and then stood, patted Killian gently on the shoulder in farewell, and then headed out the room. Just as she walked past, Emma gave her a grateful smile, and then, she and Killian were alone.

"I gather that we used to be close." Killian said in greeting, nodding after Lacey. "She talks like we were."

"Yeah." She told him, sitting just where Lacey had and smiling widely when Killian tried to scoot his chair closer. "I brought hot cocoa."

He grinned, taking one of the not-so-warm cups from her and cradling it in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"What?"

"You look like you're not sleeping well. Is everything okay?" It was definitely a politer way to tell her she looked exhausted than what Neal had said, and after a moment's pause, Emma shook her head. "Is there something I can do?"

"I'll let you know if I think of anything." she said, refusing to let herself voice the thought that she'd sleep better once he was himself again. "Neal's fiancée arrived in town today, and as much as I am over him, it's hard to hear the stories of how they met and how he proposed and how _happy_ they are when you're… well, I'd have preferred him to reappear in my life when I wasn't so alone."

She swallowed nervously, unable to meet his eyes, and gripped once again at her necklace. "You're not alone, Emma. You have the deputy, you have your son. You have me, even if I'm not the person you used to know. Whatever our past, I want to be there for you now."

There was nothing that could stop her from looking at him after those words, and her breath caught when she saw the earnestness in his eyes. To stop herself from doing something stupid, like launching herself off the bed and trying to _kiss_ him into remembering, she took a sip of her own drink and stared at the white wall behind him.

"Why?" she asked quietly, once she felt slightly more in control. "You only remember a few hours of time spent with me. Why do you care?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied. "You're only one who cares enough about me to visit, every day, even if you're not the person whose name is on my arm. How could I do anything other than care for you?"

Her chest felt tight, his adoring gaze _so_ familiar and yet still not what she was used to seeing in his expression. Killian seemed to be waiting for her to reply, something he wouldn't have done before. He'd have understood when things were too much, when she couldn't say another word.

But he seemed to figure it out eventually, and he took a small sip of his own drink in an attempt to stave away the suddenly uncomfortable atmosphere. He grimaced slightly at the taste, and it was then Emma remembered a sleepy confession he'd made one night, when they were satisfied and curled up together. She'd murmured something about wanting a drink, and Killian had admitted he wasn't particularly fond of her favoured beverage, unless he was tasting it from her lips. He'd kissed her then and the words had been forgotten, gone from her mind as they lost themselves in one another.

His dislike of the drink, however, didn't seem to stop him from finishing it. Most likely because it was bound to be better than whatever the hospital called coffee.

She watched him as he drank, her fingers playing over the coin he'd given her. She felt like she needed to take every opportunity to stare at him, to enjoy _being_ with him, because right now, they could only spend a limited amount of time together.

"May I see your necklace?" he asked suddenly, once the hot cocoa was finished and the cup abandoned on the small table near him. Emma nodded, and then he was reaching out towards her, a pained expression on his face as he bent closer, his ribs clearly hurting from the movement. She couldn't stop herself from leaning towards him, her eyes locked on him as he ran his fingers over the gold coin, part of her hoping that the coin would be enough to trigger a memory, although she hoped it wouldn't be of her leaving him at the top of the beanstalk. "It's lovely. Is it something important to you?"

"It's from you." she breathed. "Of course it's important."

And she'd told him a lot, but she'd tried not to let on what they'd been, what he'd meant to her. She hadn't thought she could handle it if she admitted what they'd shared and he'd only stared back at her blankly, possibly even looking confused that he might have thought that about her once.

"From me?" He repeated, looking up at her with warm eyes and an unfamiliar shy smile.

She could only nod, and then her breath caught as his hand moved from the necklace, rising to cup her cheek and hold her gaze to his. He was looking for something, and whatever he saw in her expression made his gaze soften even further. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like she was looking at _her_ Killian, even though she knew she wasn't.

His thumb brushed along her cheekbone and he inched closer, appearing almost as mesmerised by her as she was of him. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

He sounded slightly incredulous, his gaze roaming over her as though he couldn't believe she was sitting there with him, and then she just _knew_. Henry had said it, _Neal_ had said it, but she'd been foolish. She'd convinced herself that she wasn't _in love_ with Killian, but in that moment, she knew she'd been completely wrong.

She jumped to her feet, shaking her head when Killian asked if she was alright, his hand still outstretched towards where her face had just been. She couldn't say anything, not when she'd just realised something so monumental, and she didn't even give Killian a second glance as she turned and ran out of the room.

Emma didn't get far, running along the corridor and turning a corner before slowing to a stop and falling back against the wall. Her chest was tight, her breathing heavy, but all she could think about was how she'd been stupid enough to delude herself into thinking she felt something different.

She'd been foolish to think she just loved Killian. She had loved Neal, but after he left her, part of her had always believed she could find someone else she loved as much, even if she didn't think she'd find someone else who loved her back.

It was different with Killian. She couldn't imagine feeling the way she did for anyone but him. Perhaps it wasn't what David and Mary-Margaret had but she didn't want that. Not if it wasn't with Killian. What she had with Killian was more than she could have imagined. She felt like she was drowning in her feelings for him, except she didn't want to resurface.

True love _was_ real. Henry had taught her that, as had David and Mary-Margaret, but unless she found it with Killian, she didn't want it. And maybe that was enough to make him, It. Her true love.

It was a terrifying thought, but at the same time, it made perfect sense. What other explanation could be there be for how much she loved him? How loving him was as much a part of her as loving Henry was?

She was _in love_ with him and he didn't even remember her.

~~~*~~~

Although Emma had thought she might need time to come to terms with her realisation, it had quickly become clear that nothing had changed except finally putting a name to what she felt. She'd become comfortable with what she felt for Killian, loved him for so long that it was just a relief to finally know it.

She wanted to go back to him and apologise for running away, wanted to sit back down and have him look at her just as he had before she'd run. If she hadn't been as distracted by her own thoughts, she'd have been hopeful that he was feeling something. There had definitely been _something_ there, even if it wasn't as strong as it had been when he knew her.

It was just as she decided that, yes, she would go and talk to him again, that her phone rang and she saw David's name written on the screen. If he hadn't been working on identifying the still unknown murder victim, she wouldn't have answered, but it was her job.

"David?" She answered. "Is something wrong? What's happened?"

"Nothing's wrong." David insisted. "I just wondered if you wanted to come with your mother and me to see Mother Superior. The hospital's on the way, so I could swing by with the truck and we could go from there?"

"What? Why are you going to the convent?" she asked. "And how did you know I was at the hospital?"

"Lucky guess. It's mid-morning and you're not at the station, so I figured you might be with Killian." he explained. "And we're going to the convent because Snow told Marco that August's in the forest and she's taken it upon herself to work things out between them. She thinks Mother Superior can help."

"Marco?"

"Gepetto."

"Right. And how did Mary-Margaret get involved in all this?"

"I mentioned August over breakfast. Apparently, Marco was looking for him after the curse and she thought he deserved to know that Pinocchio wasn't MIA anymore." He admitted sheepishly. "The Blue Fairy turned him into a real boy. Snow thinks that if she can do that again, they'll both be happy."

"If August wanted Marco to know he was still in Storybrooke, he'd have already told him." Emma pointed out. "What do you expect me to do if I go with you? Just tell Mary-Margaret that I don't think she should be interfering? It won't stop her."

"You've seen August. You can at least reassure Marco that he's alright."

For a second, Emma considered just saying no and continuing with what she wanted to do, talk to Killian, but then she remembered Dr Whale's words. Maybe she didn't want to interfere in August's relationship with his father, but she _did_ want to know how long it might be until they could bring Killian's memories back.

"I'll come." She decided. "But I'm not telling Marco where August is. That's up to August."

~~~*~~~

Mother Superior hadn't been particularly helpful about either issue, insisting that she couldn't change August back to a man because he wasn't brave, truthful and unselfish, and then telling Emma that she wasn't sure when she'd be able to return Killian's memories because she couldn't find everything she needed to make the potion work.

It wasn't what Emma wanted to hear, and she snapped back at the nun that she should just look harder.

And then August called from the station, and everything went crazy. He insisted he had to warn her about something, but before he could, the line crackled and went dead.

As they rushed towards the station, with Mary-Margaret, Marco and Mother Superior sat in the trunk of David's truck, Emma kept trying to call back. She needed to get in touch with him, especially if he was that day's bearer of insanity, but it didn't seem like the station's phone was working, which wasn't a good sign.

They had only just turned the corner onto Main Street when she saw August staggering out of the Sheriff's station, and she didn't even let David stop the car, leaping out as soon as he'd slowed down.

"August!" she called, sprinting down the rest of the street and reaching him just as he collapsed. "August, are you okay? What happened?"

"Emma." he breathed, his wooden hand closing firmly around hers and forcing her to meet his eyes. "It's her. She… I should have called you as soon as she came to see me, but I-"

"Calm down. It'll be okay." she murmured. "Just tell me what's going on."

Marco reached them then, kneeling beside Emma and taking August into his arms, and Emma glanced up to see that David and Mary-Margaret were there too, staring down at them all. "My boy, what happened to you?" Marco asked tearfully. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"I'm so sorry, Papa." August whispered, his father's tears seeming to be the only thing that could draw his attention away from Emma. "I failed you. I couldn't…"

"There's nothing to apologize for." Marco promised, shifting so that he was holding August more securely. Emma moved slightly, one hand still clasped in August's and the other resting against his wooden hair, stroking his forehead slightly in an attempt to sooth him, if he could even feel her touch. "Everything will be alright."

August shook his head, his gaze falling to Emma again and his grip tightening around her hand. "Emma, I'm sorry. I should have told you but I was too ashamed. I didn't want you to know how far I… I'm sorry I keep failing you."

"So tell me now." she pressed, her hand moving to rest against his cheek and keep his eyes on her. "Who came to you? Who _did_ this? Regina?"

"No. No. It was… she's…" He was struggling to speak, his hold on her hand painfully tight, and after one final, pained gasp, he fell still, his wooden body becoming rigid. Emma heard Marco sob, and she felt tears of her own stinging her eyes.

"David, go see if there's anyone still in the station." she ordered, her voice thick. "We can't let whoever did this get away with it."

She didn't watch to see if David followed her instructions, assuming that he would. She couldn't look away from August. Whatever he'd done in the past, he'd tried to make up for it, been so sincere when he muttered apologies that she'd been certain that she'd be able to forgive him. He'd never know that, not when he'd turned back into a puppet and lost whatever magic had given him life.

"It shouldn't have ended like this." She said numbly, deaf to the broken cries coming from August's father. "He deserved a second chance. He should have had a second chance. He shouldn't have… someone _killed_ him to stop him from telling us something and he tried his hardest to tell us who. This can't be it."

"He's gone." Mary-Margaret said solemnly, patting Emma's shoulder in an attempt to calm her. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what we can do."

"This is a town with magic." Emma stated. Emma felt ridiculous for even suggesting it, but surely magic could be used for things like this. It couldn't just be what she'd seen from Cora, Rumplestiltskin and Regina. "Now, I don't know much about magic, but it brought him to life before. Why can't we just do that again? Why won't that work?"

"You're right." Marco said quietly, and Emma followed his gaze to see Mother Superior standing by David's parked truck. "Blue, you did it before. Can't you make him a real boy again?"

"If his actions were brave, truthful and unselfish, there's a chance." Mother Superior admitted, drawing a wand out from her sleeve and pointing it towards the figure of August. "I can try."

"Please."

The woman waved her wand and then August glowed, a bright blue light swelling around him before he seemed to shrink. The hand that had been around Emma's grew smaller and fell away.

Then the magic faded and it wasn't August cradled in Marco's arms. Marco was beaming, gazing down at the child he was holding, but Emma couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. The puppet was alive again, but he was a young boy, the same size as Henry.

She jumped to her feet, staring at Pinocchio as he hugged his father. This hadn't been what she meant when she'd suggested using magic to bring him back. She wasn't even sure if this was better. It wasn't August that had been brought back. It would be years before he was the man he'd been only minutes earlier, years that she didn't want to wait, and even then he wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't grow up the same way August had, wouldn't be shaped into the man August had been, but at least Marco seemed happy.

"Pinocchio?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief when the child turned to look at her. "I have to ask you a question and I need you to think real hard, okay?" Pinocchio - he was Pinocchio now, she couldn't think of him as August - looked at her and nodded. "Before you turned into a little boy, you were trying to tell us something very important. Do you remember? You were trying to warn us about something?"

Pinocchio looked between her and his father and then he shook his head. "I… I don't remember. If I did, I would be truthful. I promise."

She grimaced and walked away. She didn't want to look at Marco and the newly revived Pinocchio, not when it was proof that someone else she'd cared for had forgotten her, forgotten who he used to be.

Maybe Rumplestiltskin was too powerful to arrest for what he'd done to Killian, but Emma was going to make sure that she found whoever had taken August away from her.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Hawkeye733 for editing this with me! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 39**

"You're the saviour. You're the one who's meant to get us home. Why are we still here?"

Emma had only spent a few minutes searching the station for any clues to August's attacker when Leroy stormed in, the other dwarves at his heels. She had no idea _how_ he'd found out so quickly, but Leroy always seemed to know about what was going on in Storybrooke, and he _always_ responded loudly and angrily.

She decided to ignore him, too busy watching the security video. She didn't expect she'd find anything, not when she'd entered the station and realised all the cameras had been disabled, but there was a chance she'd see something suspicious happening just before they were turned off. Even if she didn't, watching the videos was still preferable to listening to Leroy's rage, even with her struggle to keep the Betamax VCR working.

"Well?" Leroy continued, stomping towards her until he was blocking her view of the screen. "Are you going to wait until someone else is turned back into a child?"

Emma rolled her eyes, wishing David and Mary-Margaret would finish their search of the back room and come in to shut him up. "I'm pretty sure that if anyone else gets attacked, they're just going to be dead." She snapped, which seemed to take him aback. "Besides, what do you expect me to do? Click my heels, say there's no place like home and hope that sends you back?"

"There has to be something." He insisted, looking slightly sheepish when he noticed Mary-Margaret appear from the backroom, as though he knew he shouldn't be ambushing Emma the way he was. "You went back once. There has to be a way to do it again."

"There isn't." Emma told him. "Okay. If I knew a way to send you back, trust me, I'd be more than happy to let you go. But there isn't. Why isn't that okay anymore?"

"This place isn't safe. First, that Greg guy hits the pirate with his car, then your ex's girl shows up. Soon, we're going to be Maine's biggest tourist attraction." Leroy said. "And that's not even considering the latest murder."

"I suppose I can see why you'd choose ogres over the terror of a man who photographs his food." She muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the way he spluttered in response. "But it doesn't change anything. I can't get you back to the Enchanted Forest."

Leroy seemed to decide that she wasn't worth his time, starting to herd his fellow dwarves towards the station exit and calling back to Mary-Margaret just before leaving. "Talk to her, Snow."

Mary-Margaret waited until the seven dwarves had traipsed back outside, before turning to look at Emma. Emma tried to start playing the security tape before her friend could speak, but she was just a second too slow.

"He has a point." Mary-Margaret said carefully, her arms folded across her chest in what Emma imagined was her teacher pose. "It's our home."

"It's not mine."

"It _is_."

"No, it's not." Emma reminded her. "Besides, we can't get there. I've already learnt that travelling between realms isn't exactly easy. What are you expecting me to do?"

Mary-Margaret's eyebrows furrowed together, and then she realised something, smiling excitedly at Emma. "Jefferson's hat!We could use his hat to travel home."

"Because that worked out so well last time." Emma stated, rolling her eyes again. "What even happened to the hat after the wraith pulled me through?"

"I locked it in the evidence locker." Mary-Margaret admitted. "We tried to use it to go after you, but no one could get it to work. No one but you. Now you're here, it's worth a try."

"I don't see why you want to go back." She admitted. "It didn't seem like there was anything in the Enchanted Forest that made it worth moving there. You only want to go back because you think it will fix everything, but it _won't_. We shouldn't be running away. We should be finding who did this."

"It's not running away." Mary-Margaret looked incredulous, and perhaps it was strange for Emma to be the one insisting on staying put, especially after she'd run from Killian only hours earlier, but Emma refused to change her mind. "It's going home. We can find out who did this once we're back there."

"Really? Forensics there didn't seem to be particularly advanced." Emma muttered dismissively. "That'll make finding August's attacker _so_ much easier."

"There aren't any forensics to check." Her friend was exasperated now, a heavy sigh escaping her looks when Emma just raised an eyebrow in response. "Wouldn't you like your own room? Some more space? You were meant to have a palace. That's all I've ever wanted for us, for _you_."

"If space is the issue, I can move out." Emma told her. "A palace really isn't necessary."

"No, that's not… think about it." Mary-Margaret pleaded. "Just _think_ about it. The Enchanted Forest could be your home, Emma, you just have to let it."

And that was it. Emma didn't want to hear anymore. She turned off the television and slammed the remote down on the table, frustrated by Mary-Margaret's refusal to realise that there was absolutely nothing about the Enchanted Forest that made Emma want to go back there.

"I wish I'd never broken the stupid curse." She bit out, storming over towards the coat rack and starting to shrug on her leather jacket. "I came to Storybrooke for Henry, not for _this_."

"You can't mean that."

"Why not? Name one good thing that's happened since. August is gone, we _still_ don't know who Cora murdered, and Killian doesn't even remember me. Not to mention that it's been two weeks and I've barely slept." Emma listed, ignoring how Mary-Margaret softened and sent her an understanding look. "It's not exactly the happy ending Henry told me it would be."

"Maybe that's because your happy ending's in the Enchanted Forest?"

Emma shook her head in disbelief. "I can't do this right now. Okay?" She told Mary-Margaret, glaring at her before she could protest. "I'm going to pick Henry up from school. When we get home, can we just…. _not_ talk about this?"

The door of the Sheriff station slammed shut when she left.

~~~*~~~

She'd spent most of the walk back to the loft trying to figure out how to tell Henry what had happened to August, but they'd run into Neal on Main Street, two wooden swords tucked under his arm, and Henry had looked so excited about sword-fighting with his father that she'd given him a kiss on the head and watched him walk off with Neal.

Emma knew that now she wasn't spending the afternoon with Henry, she should return to the station and continuing looking at unhelpful security videos and searching for nonexistent clues, but she didn't want to do that. Not when Mary-Margaret was bound to still be there, bound to have told David about their argument, and she didn't want to be faced with the two of them attempting to convince her to consider a one-way trip to the Enchanted Forest.

She couldn't go to the loft either, just in case they'd realised how fruitless the evidence hunt was. Not without Henry.

Besides, she didn't want to go home yet. She had the time to go and see Killian, to try and explain why she'd run away, and although she wasn't sure what reason she could give, she desperately wanted to talk to him. To be with the man she loved.

The hospital wasn't too much of a walk away, barely ten minutes, and she still felt frustration simmering inside her when she arrived. Before, Killian would have known just what to say to calm her down, but as much as she wanted to see him, part of her was worried he'd accidentally say something to anger her and she'd storm out again.

These days, it didn't seem to take much to send her running. Maybe she just wasn't strong enough to resist the need to do so, not like she'd been with Henry and Killian at her side, insisting that everything would be okay, fooling her into thinking that maybe she could get a happy ending.

He wasn't in his room, but after a few moments of panicking that he'd had enough of the hospital and left, she remembered that if he _had_ discharged himself, the hospital would have already called her and let her know.

She strode down the ward, to the reception desk, and the nurse working there looked up at her approach. "He's in the lounge." The nurse told her, not even needing Emma to state why she was there. "Down the corridor, take the next left and then the room's on the right."

Emma mumbled a thank you and stomped down the corridor, following the nurse's instructions. She saw him the second she entered the room, although he didn't notice her, too busy reading 'The Ship that Sailed the Time Stream'.

"Where did you get that?" she asked without thinking, smiling sheepishly when he raised his head and blinked at her, as though he wasn't sure she was really there. "What's it about?"

"Emma?" He questioned, frowning when she walked towards him and settled on the couch opposite him. "I wasn't expecting… It's from Belle. She brought it when she came to visit me earlier. Apparently, I asked her a long time ago for books involving time travel and this was the next one on the list."

"Time-travel books?" She repeated. "I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing. You never… Well, I guess that explains why you made me watch Time Bandits. Is it good?"

Killian tilted his head, one eyebrow raised, and then moved his hand slightly so that the book fell shut, his finger marking the page. "Why are you here? I had assumed I wouldn't be seeing you again until tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, well, that's why I'm here." Emma told him. "To say sorry. I shouldn't have run out like I did, but everything… it was too much. I meant to come back earlier, but the station called. Turns out Storybrooke is more dangerous than you'd expect a small town to be."

His eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze darting over her and then his expression softened. "Is everything alright?"

"You always ask me that."

"You always look exhausted." He explained. "Not to mention how much paler you look compared to this morning. Do you want to tell me what's wrong? What I said this morning still stands, no matter what happened after I said it."

And then she didn't care that she couldn't tell him more than an outline of what had happened, not when there was so much to explain. She just wanted to _talk_ to him, to share her day with him, even if she had to be careful with the details.

"My friend was attacked." She said quietly, skipping over the fact that August was made out of wood. "I didn't get there in time and now he's gone. I was holding his hand and then… he wasn't there anymore. That was it. And I don't even know who did it."

He was quiet for a second, and then he abandoned his book on the couch and reached out to take her hand. She tightened her grip around his, unable to look away from their linked hands. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." she muttered. "But you don't need to… I'm not sure how I feel about everything. August and I, we weren't close. We were friends but our past was messy and I'd told him that I'd need time to forgive him for what happened. I told him that yesterday and now he's gone."

"What did he do?"

"He… He thought I was meant for something more than robbing convenience stores with Neal. He set me up to take the fall for one of Neal's crimes and-" she stopped speaking suddenly, trying to put her feelings for August into words, even though it hurt. "He and Neal took so much from me. My chance to be with my son, my freedom, my trust. But he was sorry, I knew that. He wanted to redeem himself. He _died_ trying to warn me that there's someone in this town, someone dangerous, but I still… I want to forgive him. I do. But August isn't here anymore and I still need time. I need time and I need _sleep_ and I've just had enough of people forgetting me. Of losing people."

"Losing me?" He asked gently. Despite Emma's hand trying to keep his in her grip, he pulled his hand away and reached towards her, his thumb under her chin gently tilting her head up so she was looking at him again. His hand moved again and then he was brushing a tear away, although Emma hadn't ever realised she was crying.

She felt her lips tremble, and then she couldn't do anything but admit the truth. "Yeah."

"What were we?" He whispered, still stroking her cheek. "Before?"

"We were something." She told him. "Friends, for a long time. For the last month, more."

"A month?" He repeated. He drew his hand away as he spoke, his arm dropping back to his side. She watched him tap his fingers against his thigh, wondering absently if he didn't want to touch her now that he knew what he meant to her. "I had assumed longer."

It _felt_ longer. They'd been _something_ for months, but she wouldn't admit it, wouldn't _let_ them be anything more. As soon as she'd stopped her denial, though, things had moved quickly, as though making up for the time she'd wasted.

So maybe she'd only been calling them a couple for a few weeks, but she'd loved him for longer than that. She knew that now.

"It should have been." She muttered. "For a long time… I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't _want_ to know what I wanted."

"So what do you want now? What do you want from _me_?"

Emma swallowed nervously. She hadn't really thought about what she wanted from Killian, not now he didn't remember her. She wanted him back, wanted his memories back, but if he _didn't_ remember, what did she want?

"I just want to be able to talk with you. Nothing else." She decided, taking in a deep breath as she tried to collect her thoughts. Tried to figure out what to say. "I don't want to be with you right now. If we decide to be together, it should be something we _both_ want. You don't even know me."

Killian narrowed his eyes, leaning back and staring at her, searching for something in her expression. "And what if I never want it?"

The question sent her mind reeling backwards, trying to pull away from the unfamiliar realisation that she might be expecting more than he could give, and Emma didn't know what to say. It would hurt, she knew that much, but it would be even more painful to have him be with her out of some sense of obligation to the man he used to be.

It felt strange to admit to herself, but she couldn't help but hope that, memory or not, they'd find each other again. He'd called her beautiful only that morning, told her that he cared about her and maybe it wasn't the same, maybe it wasn't love, but one day, maybe it could be.

He seemed to take her silence as an answer, although she didn't know _what_ answer it was. He took in a deep breath, apparently coming to a decision of his own. "Talk to me." He muttered. "Let me start to know you."

She smiled shakily, overwhelmed by the feeling of relief that had swept through her. "Where should I start?" He simply smiled in response, and if he really was willing to listen to whatever she wanted to discuss, she wanted to talk with him about what had driven her away from the sheriff station, away from August's case, and back to sitting with him. "So, I've been talking with my friends and they all want to leave Storybrooke. Apparently it's too dangerous here and they all want to move back to… Hogwarts."

She couldn't say the Enchanted Forest, but she couldn't stop herself from grimacing after she said the first place that came to mind. At least he wouldn't remember reading 'The Prisoner of Azkaban', so he wouldn't instantly recognise her lie.

"And you don't want them to go?"

"I don't want to go with them. And, yeah, I'd prefer it if they stayed here too." Emma stated. "They keep talking like Hogwarts is better than Storybrooke. As though moving there will solve everything, make everyone happier, except I've been there before and there's nothing to move there for. Going there would be like going back in time, but they just can't see that."

"Why is it so important to them to go back then?" Killian asked. "Why do they see it so differently?"

"It's where they're from." She told him. "Although, when I think about it, they've been in Storybrooke for just as long. Longer. I wouldn't say this to their faces, but I think that the Enchanted… that Hogwarts is just a memory to them now. You know, when you remember the good parts and not the bad parts and it just seems so much better than it actually was?"

"You might be happier there." Killian suggested. "You don't seem happy here."

"I'd be unhappier there." Emma concluded. "Here, I know what I'm doing. I have a place here. I go back with them, and it wouldn't be like that anymore. I don't think I could be the person they'd want me to be there."

"Why do you _really_ not want to go?"

"If I go with them, I'd lose everything. I wouldn't be able to be me anymore, not if they were going to have the life that they see when they think of going back. I wouldn't fit in there, and they wouldn't understand why." She hadn't expected to admit it, not when she would have kept her thoughts to herself, but she wanted to share things with Killian now, even if he couldn't know the whole story. "I'd just disappoint them. All of them."

"Emma-"

"And I'd miss all of the things that they don't have there. No hot cocoa, no cars, no signal. No birth control."

"Emma!" This time, he managed to interrupt her and she glanced up at him. His expression was a strange mixture of amusement and sympathy. "You don't need to try and justify your feelings to me. If you don't want to go back, then you don't. There's no need to give me a reason."

"Okay." She breathed, sending him a trembling smile. He stared at her for a moment, clearly trying to decide on something, and then he stood from the couch, groaning in pain and pressing his hand against his ribs as he did so. Emma hated hearing him in pain, and she jumped to her feet, dashing across the short distance between them so that they were standing only inches apart. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He promised. "I wanted to make sure you were alright. I wanted to…"

Killian trailed off, and then, to Emma's surprise, she felt him wrap his arms around her and tug her close, surrounding her in a hug that felt more comforting than any of his words had. It only took the simple reassurance of his arms around her to remind Emma of what had been missing between them since his accident. Without his often subtle and unspoken ways of reaching out to her something had always been a little off in his responses, another wall built back up between them just after Emma had managed to break down some of her own.

But _this_ felt no different than it would from a Killian who remembered her. She sunk into the embrace, clinging to him, her head nestled in the curve of his shoulder. When she closed her eyes, just let herself be held by him, nothing seemed to matter as much.

~~~*~~~

Emma hadn't spent much longer at the hospital. Killian had kept the hug short, insisting that he didn't want to give her any false hope that things would return to how they used to be, and after accompanying him back along the corridors to his room, she'd given him a short goodbye and walked away.

It was barely late afternoon, but The Rabbit Hole was already open. Although she probably should have returned to the Sheriff station or to the loft, Emma found herself perched at the bar, a double shot of rum in her hand.

"I think we might be paying you too much." It was Regina, and Emma turned to see the mayor standing behind her, her arms folded. "When you were voted in as Sheriff, I imagine the townspeople thought you'd be solving crime, not drowning your sorrows."

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked, pointedly taking another sip of her drink. "Did you get bored hiding away in your house and _not_ kidnapping anyone?"

"I'm trying to change." Regina snarled. "I'm only here because I want to talk to you."

"Change? Okay. I'll believe that when I see it. Maybe next week, when you haven't kidnapped someone or attempted to murder me, Killian and David."

"Those weren't my ideas." Regina said coolly, although Emma didn't think that excused what she'd done. Instead of saying that, however, she just took another drink. Regina's lip curled, and then, after using a napkin to dust the bar stool, she sat down beside Emma. "Should I assume, then, that asking to see Henry is a waste of time?"

Emma wanted to say yes, but she remembered the conversation she'd had with Henry that morning. Whatever Emma wanted, _Henry_ missed his mother and if they were both eager to see one another, she couldn't deny her son the opportunity. "No. It's not a waste of time." She told the mayor. Regina blinked at her, and then a begrudging, grateful smile spread across her lips. "We can figure something out. Maybe you can do something with me and him at the weekend."

"With you?" The gratitude had already left her expression. Emma took another sip of rum, wondering if Regina would only be happy if everything went her way. "Why do you have to be there?"

"You're not being left alone with him."

"But you're more than happy to leave him alone with the same man who abandoned you?" Regina questioned.

"How do you know Henry's with Neal?" Emma asked, annoyed that Regina's barbs hit closer to home than she wanted to admit. "And how do you know Neal abandoned me?"

"It's hard to miss two people sword-fighting through the streets." Regina said dismissively. "A few words with Rumplestiltskin and I knew exactly who Neal was. As for him abandoning you, it was a lucky guess. What else would have left you so incapable of affection?"

"Keep talking, Regina." Emma bit out. "You're doing _such_ a good job of convincing me to let you spend time with Henry."

The woman's mouth snapped shut, and after taking a moment to compose herself, Regina sent her a cold but polite smile. "So when _will_ I be allowed to spend time with him? Just me?"

"I don't know." Emma told her honestly. "I'm not putting a date on it. It's probably best if we just see what happens."

"He's _my_ son." Regina said through gritted teeth, staring down at the bar instead of looking at Emma. "I cared for Henry for ten years, when neither you nor his father were interested in him, and now I can't see him without supervision? I came to ask you for permission out of courtesy, but you have no right to deny me time with him."

"I know he's your son." Emma agreed. "But he's also the son that you sent to therapy because he figured out the truth. The son that you called delusional and crazy instead of facing up to what you'd done. But you _did_ raise him and he _does_ love you. He wants to see you and right now, he wants to see you when he's with me. And it's going to be like that until he tells me otherwise."

"You're going to take him away from me, aren't you?" Regina muttered, her voice suddenly lacking the venom it had before. For a moment, the woman actually sounded sad.

"No, I'm not."

Regina stared at her, shaking her head slightly, as though she didn't believe her, and then she stood up and stalked out of the bar without another word. Emma frowned after her, slightly disconcerted by her sudden exit, but soon shrugged it off.

She still had rum to drink.

~~~*~~~

The loft couldn't be avoided forever, so after one more drink, Emma had wandered slowly back along Main Street to the apartment. She had needed some time alone, and she felt calmer now she'd had some, although the few shots of rum had probably helped with that.

Mary-Margaret was the first person she saw when she entered the loft. The woman's lips drew into a thin line, and Emma knew instantly that the conversation she'd walked out on that morning was nowhere near over. However, she didn't start talking, and Emma only had to glance around the rest of the loft to see why.

Neal was on the couch, watching one of the Indiana Jones films. Henry was beside him, his head resting against the back of the sofa, mouth open, fast asleep. She glanced quickly at Mary-Margaret, and then wandered towards Neal instead of joining her mother in the kitchen.

She settled on the empty couch opposite the two boys, stretching out across it with a yawn and then looking over towards Neal. "What did you do? Tranquilize him?"

Neal chuckled quietly, a fond expression rippling across his face as he glanced at his son. "I just gave him a couple of bourbons. Kid's a real lightweight."

Emma smiled. "Looks like you guys had a full afternoon."

"We spent most of it at the park. He's getting pretty good with those wooden swords." Neal told her, muting the television before turning so that he was sat facing her. "I guess that makes sense, considering where his family's from. You know, he nearly beat me, but I guess a prince just isn't as good a swordsman as a pirate."

She frowned at him, wondering for a second if Neal had brought up his time with Killian for any particular reason, except Neal was watching Henry again. Maybe it hadn't meant anything at all, just that, in Storybrooke, he could talk freely about the hundreds of years he'd lived.

"You should move him upstairs." Emma suggested. "Before he wakes up with a crick in his neck."

She nodded her head towards the stairs leading to the room she shared with Henry, and then watched as Neal carefully picked her son up and started to take him upstairs. She took a moment to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. As soon as she heard Neal's heavy footsteps moving back towards her, though, she opened her eyes again.

"You ever thought about going back?" she asked as he sat back down and relaxed into the couch. "To the Enchanted Forest?"

Neal stared at her and then shook his head. "God, no. I spent most of my life trying to forget that place." He said with a bitter laugh. "I didn't exactly have a fairy-tale childhood, Emma. I left for a reason. Why are you asking?"

"It's on my mind." She glanced quickly at Mary-Margaret, but Neal didn't notice. "I just thought I'd ask."

"Then no." Neal replied. "Not really. Sure, there were days when I thought about going back to my Papa but I wouldn't want to _live_ there again. I missed the place when I first came here and I _really_ missed it when I was trapped in Neverland, but since coming back, never. This world is easier. More comfortable. And there aren't any ogres, which is good."

He fell silent, and Emma couldn't hide her relieved smile at the realisation that she wasn't the only one who saw Storybrooke as somewhere preferable to the Enchanted Forest. Neal was definitely right about it being more comfortable, although she supposed it was probably different for Mary-Margaret, who had lived in a castle instead of sleeping outside, the way Emma had done during her one week there.

Mary-Margaret wanted a palace back. For her, the Enchanted Forest meant wealth and comfort. Emma had to wonder if others, who wouldn't be returning to the same luxuries, would be as eager to move back.

"Does Killian want to go back?" Neal asked, his voice wary. "Is that you're asking? You're considering going there with him?"

"No, Killian is… It's complicated and I _really_ don't want to get into it with you." Emma told him, rolling her eyes when he grimaced. "Look, whatever this is isn't going to work if you make that face every time I say Killian's name. You've moved on, _I've_ moved on, and maybe Killian was part of your life once, but you can't judge anyone on what they did hundreds of years ago. Not when they've changed."

Neal sighed, ran his hand across his face, and then shrugged. "Okay. Maybe he has changed. I wouldn't know. It's not exactly like I've seen him around. He doesn't seem like much of a boyfriend."

"As if you were."

"Okay, that's fair."

"Like I said, complicated." Emma muttered, looking up at the ceiling instead of at her ex. "If he could be with me, he _would_ be. Unfortunately, your father didn't seem to like that idea much."

She glanced briefly at Neal again, just to see his reaction. He was peering at her apprehensively, as though waiting for her to tell him exactly what Rumplestiltskin had done. She didn't want to talk about it, and after a few moments, he seemed to realise that.

"Okay." He said. "If Killian's who you want, then okay. If he makes you happy, then…"

Neal didn't seem to know how to finish that sentence, and seemed to decide that the best thing to do was stand up and start to move towards the door. "Look at you," Emma joked, following him. "Being mature. It's a whole new side of you."

"Very funny." Neal rolled his eyes. "See you around?"

"Sure."

Neal left the apartment, pausing on the top stair to look back at Emma. "You know, I met Marco at the park today. He had August with him. What happened there?"

"He's not August anymore. Someone attacked him and… I'm looking into it." Emma corrected. "Just be careful. Storybrooke isn't safe right now."

"Isn't safe?" Neal repeated, one eyebrow raised. "From who?"

"I don't know. August didn't get the chance to tell me before, well, you know." A thought occurred to her then, as she stared at Neal. Neal had moved on too, had brought his fiancée to town just that day. What sort of impression would she have of Storybrooke when someone was murdered the same day she arrived? She didn't want to wonder at the coincidence, but now she'd considered it, she had to ask. "Do you know where Tamara was earlier today? Around lunchtime?"

"Out for a run." Neal replied, his eyes narrowed at Emma. "She's training for a marathon. Goes for a jog everyday before lunch. Why are you asking?"

"I'm Sheriff." Emma told him. "I mean, come on, you have to admit it doesn't look good when someone new arrives in town and then a few hours later, someone gets attacked."

"She was out for a run." He repeated. "Jeez, Emma, she didn't even know about this place until I told her about it. This is a town with people in like my papa and like the _Evil Queen_ , and what? You think _Tamara's_ behind August's attack? Come on, Emma, you don't even know her."

"No, I don't." She agreed. "That's why I had to ask."

Neal stared at her for a few seconds, then he shook his head in exasperation. "You'll figure it out, Emma. If there's one thing I _do_ know about you, it's that you won't stop until you find what you're looking for. But I know Tamara too, and whoever you're looking for, it isn't her."

He started down the stairs. Emma waited until he was out of sight before stepping back into the loft, knowing that Mary-Margaret would be eagerly awaiting the moment they were alone, even though she'd asked her not to. As expected, the woman had abandoned washing the dishes and was looking expectantly at Emma.

"I'm going to bed." Emma stated, walking towards the steps up to her room instead of towards her mother. "We can talk later."

"It's not even dark yet." Mary-Margaret pointed out. "Look, I know this isn't something you want to think about, but the Enchanted Forest is where you're meant to be and I-"

"I haven't slept in days." Emma told her. "I have just enough rum in me to think I might actually sleep through the night, so we're not doing this now. Good night."

~~~*~~~

Emma awoke feeling more refreshed than she had in days, since before breaking the curse, although she supposed that was to be expected after sleeping from early evening until long after Henry and Mary-Margaret had gone to school.

She'd found David sat at the dining table, scribbling ideas as to what had happened to August. The sight made her feel guilty, irritated at herself for allowing her exhaustion to make her angry and distracted instead of focusing on what had happened. Emma had said as much, but David had shook his head and told her she was allowed to take a break, and then he'd sent her out of the loft with a promise that she'd get a coffee and take a walk before concentrating on the case.

Emma had done as he said. At Granny's, she'd crashed into Tamara, sending the woman and a list of Storybrooke inhabitants falling to the ground. Tamara had said, straight away, that the list didn't mean anything, that Emma could _trust_ her.

And then, although it had only been an impulsive suggestion the day before, Emma suddenly knew, with complete certainty, that no matter what Neal had said, Tamara was the woman who had attacked August. The how's and why's of Tamara's actions still eluded her, but it was her. It had to be. She could feel it.

It was Mary-Margaret she went to. It was almost a habit, to go to Mary-Margaret or Killian when she needed to talk, although she hadn't had the chance to see if things would be different, more difficult, since everything had changed.

She waited outside Mary-Margaret's classroom until the lesson, apparently something to do with birds, finished and the bell rang, the students filing past her. Emma didn't say anything in greeting, stepping into the classroom and speaking before Mary-Margaret could turn to see her.

"It's her."

"What?" Mary-Margaret turned around, clearly surprised that Emma was visiting her at school. "Emma?"

"It's Tamara." She told her. "She's the one who killed August."

"Tamara?" Mary-Margaret's expression softened into pity, and she crossed the room to sit on the desk nearest to Emma, reaching out to take her hands. "Oh, Emma. I _know_ you're having a hard time right now, and I _know_ you don't think going to Enchanted Forest will fix it, but blaming August's attack on the one person who isn't from there, who _won't_ go back with us, isn't a good idea."

" _What?_ An excuse?" Emma stared at Mary-Margaret in disbelief, snatching her hands away. She hadn't even considered that Mary-Margaret would turn the conversation to the Enchanted Forest, not when she was saying something so important. "She arrives in town and then, hours later, August is trying to warn me about some woman? It's not a coincidence. And it _isn't_ about me. This is about August. He died trying to warn us about someone. A woman. I just met Tamara at Granny's and she had a list of the people who live here and what their fairytale names are. Doesn't that worry you?"

"There could be a million different explanations for what you saw."

"We don't know anything about her." Emma insisted. "And she lied to me. When she said I could trust her, she lied."

"But your 'superpower' isn't always reliable, Emma." Mary-Margaret said slowly. "Especially when you're emotional."

"Emotional?"

"Please, Emma. You're not sleeping. You've lost people you care about. Of _course_ you're emotional." Mary-Margaret told her. "And as much as you insist that you're over Neal, it can't be easy to see him starting a life with someone else. Disliking her doesn't mean she's the one behind what happened to August."

Emma shook her head, inhaled deeply and then crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm not going back to the Enchanted Forest. It's Tamara, and if we leave, we'll let her get away with it." She wanted to sound firm, but her voice caught midway through the sentence and she had to look away from Mary-Margaret's understanding gaze. "I can't let someone else get away with hurting someone I care about. I can't hurt Rumplestiltskin, not here, but Tamara… I can do something about Tamara."

"Are you sure that's not why you want it to be her?"

"I don't _want_ it to be… You're being selfish." Emma snapped, unable to take anymore of Mary-Margaret's quiet words and soft gazes. She was sick of her friend thinking that it was apparently unreasonable for her to want to stay in Storybrooke instead of going back, was already tired of it being brought up and discussed. "You want to go back to a palace. You're not thinking about anyone else. Not about me. Not about the people you want to take back to life that will be far more difficult than any they have here. Can't you just _listen_ to me?"

"Emma-"

"I don't know why I even came here." She muttered angrily. "I should have gone to David. He'd have listened."

"Emma, please!"

She walked away.

~~~*~~~

"Regina has my hat." Emma was halfway down Main Street when she heard Jefferson, the last person she had expected to hunt her down that day. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, just suddenly walking alongside her. "I thought I should tell you."

"What?" It looked as if she wasn't going to be able to escape conversations about traversing realms, even after leaving Mary-Margaret back at Storybrooke Elementary. "What do you mean? I thought it was at the Sheriff's station. In the-"

"Evidence locker, yes." Jefferson interrupted. "It turns out that a locked door isn't enough to keep magic out."

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, drawing to a sudden halt and turning to look at him. "The last time I saw you, you had a gun to my head."

"I needed you to do something." Jefferson shrugged. "Walk away from me if you must, but Regina told me what she's planning. She's going to take Henry back to the Enchanted Forest once she's found a way to destroy Storybrooke."

"And she just _told_ you this?"

"She wanted my help to fetch what she calls the 'trigger'. She gets that, Storybrooke will be destroyed and she won't have to worry about losing Henry."

"What? Just because Neal's here? Because she'd rather kill the entire town than try to make amends?"

"I think she wants to take Henry back to the Enchanted Forest before you have the chance to." Jefferson said, looking at her as though she should have already known that. "And she wants to make sure you can't follow."

"We're not going-"

"That's not what she's heard." He interrupted, reaching out to grab her elbow and drag her into one of the alleys off Main Street. "According to Regina, Snow White and her prince think that when they do send everyone back, it'll be safer to leave her here."

"Well, I've got nothing to do with that." Emma told him, copying his example and keeping her voice close to a whisper. "I don't want to go back there and I _definitely_ don't want Henry going back there. As much fun as he'd have practicing sword-fighting all day, I'd prefer him to be somewhere with a school. If Regina takes him, there isn't going to be _anything_ that will stop me from going after him."

"I don't know. I think death might do a good job of keeping you away." Jefferson hissed. "You and I both know she won't hesitate. We know better than most just how far she's willing to go to get what she wants."

"So this 'trigger' won't just destroy the town? It'll kill everyone in it?" The hatter nodded. "And you're here for what? Why are you telling me?"

Jefferson took in a deep breath and glanced quickly around the alley, clearly checking that they were alone. "I've learnt not to trust the Queen's promises."

"What did she promise you?"

"That if I helped her, Grace and I could accompany them back to the Enchanted Forest."

"And you _didn't_ take it?"

"Regina has promised me many things before." Jefferson told her. "She has never kept a single one. Besides, it didn't have the draw I'd have expected it to. I have a manor here, not a shack. I don't have to forage for mushrooms to survive. There's a good school."

"You expect me to trust you?" Emma asked. "You seemed pretty unhappy about Grace and her new family last time I saw you."

Jefferson clenched his jaw, then he met her gaze. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decide if he was actually sincere or just trying to look like he was. "I'd prefer it if she didn't have a second family but it's too late to change that. She loves them and she'd never forgive me if I took that from her. Staying here is better."

There was nothing in his words that set off any alarms, but Mary-Margaret's words hung in Emma's minds. Part of her was certain she could trust her instincts, but it didn't help that she could hear Mary-Margaret telling her that she might be 'too emotional'.

But she wanted to prove Mary-Margaret wrong, so she didn't let herself doubt. Instead, she smiled at Jefferson, feeling slightly more confident in her decision to trust him when he smiled back. "Okay. Let's say I believe you. What are we going to do?"

"We stop her."


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me, as well as a huge thank you to everyone who has left kudos/comments on this fic. It's officially been over a year I've been writing this!

**Chapter 40**

Jefferson had accompanied Emma back to the loft, although other than a polite conversation about how their children were doing, the walk had been unpleasantly silent. She may have decided to trust his words, but the last time they'd spent any time together, it _had_ ended with a gun to her head and her father tackling Jefferson out a window.

"What's he doing here?" David asked, the second the two of them walked into the loft. "He hasn't tried to kidnap you again, has he?"

"And brought me back here?" Emma said, one eyebrow raised. David shrugged, keeping his suspicious gaze locked on Jefferson. "No, he came to tell me what Regina's up to. Apparently, she plans to destroy the town and escape with Henry. We both want to stop her, but he refused to make any sort of plans in public."

"Well, we're not in public now." David stated, folding his arms across his chest and standing up to face them. "And I really want to hear more about this whole 'destroying the town' thing."

"There's no need for hostilities, Charming." Jefferson said with a roll of his eyes, loosening the cravat around his neck. "Your wife and I came to an understanding. We're… well, I feel like 'friends' is the wrong word, but we've definitely moved past any previous wrong-doings."

"Wrong-doings?" David repeated incredulously, clearly believing that the word was a bit of an understatement. "What sort of understanding was that? Was there an apology involved?"

"No apology needed." Jefferson stated. "She was rather eager for us to get along when she was trying to find a way to you. After you fell through my hat."

"She never mentioned-"

"Yes, well, our arrangement never worked out." Jefferson interrupted, unconcerned by the distrustful expression still on David's face. "She kept my hat, I found my daughter. We both got distracted."

"You guys done catching up?" Emma asked, before they could get any further into their conversation. "Because whatever happened in the past doesn't matter now. Not when Regina's got a plan that we need to stop."

"Well, what is the plan?" David asked, taking her words to heart and visibly relaxing. "And how are we expected to stop it?"

"I guess the simplest plan would be to get the trigger before she does." Emma suggested. "That or steal it away from her before she gets to use it."

"I left her at the library." Jefferson told them. "I got the impression that that was where the trigger was. You might not have a lot of time to reach it before her."

David raised an eyebrow. "The library?"

"You left her _underneath_ the library, didn't you?" Emma confirmed, a frustrated sigh escaping her when Jefferson nodded. "I guess there's more than just a dragon down there."

"A dragon?" Even with everything Jefferson had told them, Emma couldn't stop a short laugh escaping her at David's obvious confusion. "There's a dragon in the library? Wouldn't Lacey know about that?"

"I suggest catching Regina on her way out and forcing her to hand over the trigger." Jefferson told them, ignoring David completely. "Once we have it, we're all safe."

"Then what do we do? Destroy the trigger?" Emma asked. "And once we figure that out, what do we do with Regina? She's too powerful to just lock away in the Sheriff's station."

"I don't know." Jefferson said innocently, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm a hatter, not a deputy. I thought my information would be enough. I didn't think you'd be expecting an entire plan of action from me. I've given you everything you need to know, why are you expecting more?"

"You said you wanted to stop her." Emma pointed out. "That's why."

"So what _do_ you expect?"

"We split up. I'll go to the library. David, you can check the vault and the manor in case we're too late and-"

"I'll go to her office." Jefferson told her, interrupting before she could say that she wanted him to go with David. "We should check there, shouldn't we?"

David nodded, and after strapping on his gun holster, he left Emma and Jefferson in the loft. They didn't have much time to waste, and it would take a while for David to search both places. Jefferson moved to follow him, but Emma caught his arm and held him back.

"What do you want?" she asked. "I believed you when you said you wanted to stay here instead of going back, but you're too eager to go to Regina's office for me to be anything but suspicious. What do you _really_ want?"

"My hat." Jefferson admitted, his lip curling as a look of disdain crossed his face. "I want my hat."

She swallowed. Maybe she had been wrong to believe him, maybe Mary-Margaret had been right when she said she was too tired and too emotional to trust her instincts. "That's all you wanted, right? Your hat back?" He didn't answer, his face unchanging. "Do you even care if Regina destroys the town?"

"Of course I do." He spat. "My life here is better than it ever was in the Enchanted Forest."

"Except for your daughter and her new family."

"I told you the truth. You _know_ I did." He told her. "But the hat is mine. It should be in _my_ possession. If she destroys the town, then I can use it. If not, then I don't need to jump. I don't want Regina to use the trigger, but I'm not the man to stop it. That's for people like you. Like your father."

"So you were just going to tell us what you know and what? Steal the hat back while we were distracted?"

"I am _not_ a hero." Jefferson stated. "And I never pretended to be. If I get my hat back, she won't use the trigger. She won't have an escape. My plan may be selfish, but it's just as useful as taking back the trigger, so how about we _stop_ talking and you do what a saviour's meant to do and save the day."

He adjusted his jacket, sent her a bitter smile and then strode out of the door. Emma felt strangely relieved after his confirmation that she hadn't been wrong to believe that staying in Storybrooke was what he truly wanted, although she'd have preferred him to help with Regina. Her so-called superpower was still working, she _could_ trust herself.

But it wasn't important. Maybe Tamara had lied to her, maybe it _was_ her who had killed August, but if they didn't stop Regina, it wouldn't matter.

~~~*~~~

Neither Emma or David had been able to find Regina. Emma had waited for a couple of hours outside the library's hidden elevator, not willing to return to the dragon's den, but when the gears hadn't turned and the elevator hadn't risen, she'd decided that Regina must have already left.

The two of them had checked again in the evening, their search even more thorough, and with the two of them together, they'd asked Belle to lower the elevator and they'd descended below the library. Regina hadn't been there, neither had the dragon, and although they'd searched the cavern for any sign she'd been there, they hadn't found anything other than a pile of dust and Mary-Margaret's broken glass coffin.

They'd come to the conclusion that they'd missed her and she was hiding somewhere, the trigger in her hands. They'd retreated back to the loft, hoping to come up with a new plan over drinks of hot cocoa, but they knew from experience that if Regina was hiding, it would be very difficult to find her until she wanted to be found.

It didn't feel like she'd fallen asleep, but Emma woke curled up on the sofa, a crick in her neck and the notes she'd made with David the night before crumpled in her hands. David was sprawled across the other couch, snoring.

She couldn't believe they'd slept, not when finding Regina was so important, but she let David rest just a bit longer as she made them both a much-needed pot of coffee, checking her phone during the few minutes of waiting.

Jefferson had left her a voicemail.

Glancing over her shoulder at David, she left the kitchen and headed out of the loft, leaning against the wall beside the door as she listened to Jefferson's words.

He'd retrieved his hat, found it underneath Regina's desk, but he was calling because of something else. Her office had been open when he'd arrived, her things strewn around the room as though someone had been searching through it. Regina herself wouldn't have made such a mess.

The message finished then, and Emma did nothing but stare at her phone for a few seconds. If it was as bad as it sounded, with Regina missing and her office ransacked, she had to wonder if Regina wasn't hiding. After all, she had never found Regina particularly patient. If Emma and David had missed her, she would have gone straight to her office to pick up the hat, and once she'd done that, it wouldn't have been long until the trigger was pulled.

But they'd slept through the night and nothing had happened.

Not that it mattered. Regina may not have set off the trigger but whatever, or as Emma suspected, _whoever_ , had stopped Regina from destroying the town, the trigger was probably with her. They needed to get it back.

Emma slipped back inside the loft, shaking David's shoulder until he woke up, and then she nudged his legs aside and joined him on the couch.

"We might have a problem." She told him, watching him yawn and glance around the loft as if he was as surprised at his nap as Emma had been. "Jefferson thinks someone might have been searching Regina's office for something."

"Didn't we already have a problem?" David asked through a yawn, taking her phone from her when she offered it to him.

As he listened to the voicemail, Emma made the coffee and after putting one cup in front of David, she sat back beside him. "Regina might be missing. August got attacked." She started, not giving David time to think before telling him what she thought. "Something's not right and I think it's Tamara."

David stared at her. "I didn't realise Tamara was… You're sure she's involved?"

"With what's happened to Regina, no." Emma admitted. "But I just _know_ she's behind what happened to August. I don't know why, but if she did that, then we can't ignore the fact that she might involved in this too."

"You have evidence?"

"No." Emma admitted quietly, readying herself to hear David say the same words his wife had said the day before. "But I spoke to her and… look, David, I can feel it. There's something she's lying about and she had a list of Storybrooke citizens and their other identities and… Don't tell me I'm just emotional!"

"Wasn't going to." David said hurriedly. "I was just going to suggest that if you're certain, you could look into her while I talk to Rumplestiltskin."

"Rumplestiltskin?" Emma asked. "We'll find things faster if we stick together."

"Look, Emma. Maybe it's Tamara. Maybe it isn't." David told her gently. "But Rumplestiltskin probably blames Regina for what happened between him and Lacey, and that's a motive. I have to question him. If it doesn't take long, I'll join you."

As certain as she was, he had a point and at least he wasn't disregarding her suspicions.

She left him to get ready as she had a shower, enjoying how the steaming hot water woke her up, cleared her mind. Emma wanted more time, wished she could allow herself to relax, but she only let herself have a few minutes, just a quick moment to lose herself in the thoughts of what could have been, of the way things might have been if breaking the curse really had brought happy endings, if Killian still remembered her.

There wasn't time to fantasize.

David had woken Mary-Margaret by the time Emma returned to the main room, and the woman was hurrying around and getting ready as though she was going to be joining the search.

"I guess you're going to be questioning Rumplestiltskin with David?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow when Mary-Margaret looked over at her. "I mean, I know you think looking into Tamara is a waste of time. I didn't think you'd want to help out."

It looked like David didn't know what to say, and Emma felt a twinge of regret at the hurt that briefly crossed Mary-Margaret's face.

"Oh, Emma." Mary-Margaret sighed. "If there was anything that made Tamara even slightly suspicious, you know I'd be one of the first at your side. I want to find who hurt August as much as you do, and that's why I think we need to focus on those we actually have reason to be concerned about."

"We _have_ a reason." Emma protested. "You just think I'm too tired for it to matter."

"And we're wasting time." David said suddenly, his hand on Mary-Margaret's elbow. "We should go now. I'm hoping Rumplestiltskin's a morning person, and if he _is_ , we should get there sooner rather than later."

"You'll help me investigate Tamara when you're done?" She asked, glancing between her parents. "Or is there someone else you want to question first? I've heard that Dumbo has a few overdue library fees. Maybe he's worth investigating too."

"I said we'd help you look into Tamara and we _will_." David promised. Mary-Margaret looked back at her husband before nodding at Emma."Okay?"

"Okay. But what about Henry?" Emma asked. "I thought one of you would be here and stay with him. We can't leave him alone when Storybrooke might be destroyed at any moment. Can't Mary-Margaret-?"

"I want to help." Mary-Margaret insisted. "Even if you don't think I do."

"Fine. I'll wake him up and let him know what's happening before I leave." Emma decided. "Maybe Lacey will agree to watch him or something. I guess I'll see you later."

"We'll fix this, Emma." David promised, holding the door open for Mary-Margaret as she walked out of the loft. ""And when we've questioned Rumplestiltskin, we'll call you and we'll meet you wherever you want us too."

Emma was already heading up the stairs to the room she shared with Henry when David left the apartment, expecting to find her son still fast asleep. Instead, he was sitting up in bed, an excited grin spread across his face.

"We should call this Operation… Panther." He said immediately, his grin widening when she raised an eyebrow and perched on the edge of the bed to look at him.

"Like the Pink Panther?" Emma teased, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Because we're investigating things, solving crimes?"

"We?"

"Me and David and Mary-Margaret." Emma corrected. "I don't want you to be involved in this. I want you to be safe."

"And I want to help." Henry demanded. "It's my mom. Please. Let me come with you."

She stared at him for a moment, at the eagerness in his eyes, and she couldn't say no. Not when she knew that he'd find a way to go with her, no matter what she said.

~~~*~~~

"Hang on, I almost got it." Emma whispered, glancing away from the lock on Neal's room to look at Henry. "Give me a few more minutes, and we'll be in."

Henry was leaning against the wall, watching her work with a wide smile spread across his face. "So, once we find proof that Tamara's evil, I guess the wedding's off?" He asked. "Do you think if that happens, Dad will stay in Storybrooke?"

"I don't know." Emma told him honestly. "He has a job back in New York. A home. Even if he wants to come here, it's not that easy to just move. It takes time."

"Really?" Henry asked. "Why not? That's what you did."

"Well, I…" Emma swallowed, her hands pausing on the lockpick. "I didn't _have_ anything to leave behind. Neal, he's managed to make a life for himself back there and it might not be as easy to walk away from."

Henry's grin faded then. She understood why - he had probably wanted a different answer - but she refused to allow Henry to hope for something she couldn't see happening. Whatever happened with Tamara, Emma felt that Rumplestiltskin's presence in Storybrooke might be an issue Neal couldn't ignore. Even for Henry.

He stayed quiet for a few more moments. Emma sent him a sad, sympathetic smile and turned her attention back to the lock. A few more careful moves with her fingers and the lock clicked open.

"Yes!" She hissed, twisting the doorknob and opening the door into his rented room. Henry made to push past her, but she held him back. "No, Henry. You need to stay outside. I need you to be look out. Our investigation won't be much good if Neal or Tamara come back and find us sneaking around."

"So what do I do?" Henry asked. "Whistle?"

"No, that's too obvious." Emma told him. "You have to hit the door. You know, like, just…" She closed the door and purposefully stumbled into it, the way Neal had taught her. "Kick it like you're bored or stumble into it or…. You know? Just hit the door, okay?"

"Hit the door." Henry repeated. "Yeah, got it. Now go."

She nodded at him, slipping into the bed and breakfast room and taking a second to look at the rumpled duvet, the closet filled with both Neal and Tamara's clothes. It looked just like she'd expect a couple's room to look, except she was certain there had to be something more, something that implicated Tamara in what was going on.

Emma looked under the bed first, tugging both the suitcases out from underneath it and checking them, although both were empty. She moved towards the closet, planning to check in coat pockets, but had to pause when she felt the wooden floor give slightly under her foot, a quiet creak drawing her attention.

She knelt down, peering at the floorboards to spot which one was loose, but before she could pry it up, she heard a thump at the door. Henry. She cursed under her breath, straightening up just as the door swung open and Neal stepped inside.

"You weren't here and the door was open and I just-"

"Come on, Emma." Neal sighed, running a hand down his face in exasperation. "I taught you these moves. What are you doing here?"

Emma grimaced, unsure what she could tell him. After a few moments, she decided on the truth. "Tamara." She said bluntly, wincing when Neal just gaped at her. "I think she's playing you. I think that she's the 'she' August tried to warn me about. I think she's the one who… killed him. And now Regina's missing and I think she might be involved with that too."

"You think a lot of things." Neal muttered angrily. "Did you think about the fact that you sound _crazy_? This is my fiancée you're talking about."

"I didn't want to tell you until I had proof." Emma snapped back, aware that Henry was still standing in the doorway and watching them. "Why do you think I didn't ask to have a look around? I know what it's like to find out that someone you loved isn't the person you thought they were. I wouldn't have said anything to you until I had something I could show you."

"Until?" He laughed incredulously, rolling his eyes. "You have _no_ evidence but you're sure it's her? Well, at least you broke into our room to spare my feelings. I told you, it isn't her."

"August warned us about a woman."

"And Tamara's the only one of _those_ around." He murmured bitterly. "Come on, Emma. I can't believe you dragged the kid into this!"

"She lied to me." Emma told him. "Remember I had that thing with lies?"

"You thought you had a thing with lies." Neal said under his breath, although not quiet enough for Emma not to hear it. "I never bought it."

He'd bought it. Back when they'd been together, he'd believed her. "Listen to me, Neal. She's got a list of fairy tale characters and who they are. Isn't that suspicious?"

"Not when I made it for her." Neal snapped. "She needed to get to grips with this place. It's not easy, you know? I mean, she's trying to deal with it for me but the least I could do was give her a hand."

"Okay, I know what this looks like, but it isn't that."

"You look like a jealous ex." Neal mumbled. "What? Is Captain Hook not doing it for you anymore?"

Emma didn't know how to react to that, so she just gaped at him for a moment. "What the hell are you… Henry, do you mind leaving us for a moment?" She asked, striding past Neal to hand Henry a few dollars. "Go get a hot cocoa from downstairs, okay? I'll meet you down there."

She waited until she'd seen Henry walk down the corridor and turn the corner before rounding on Neal again. "How dare you say that to me in front of Henry! What were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that you're out of your mind!"

"I'm not jealous." She hissed. "Killian has nothing to do with this. _You_ have nothing to do with this. Maybe it sounds crazy, but if you so sure she's not involved, then just let me check. You have nothing to worry about, right?"

"Check what?"

"There's a floorboard loose. It shouldn't be." Emma told him. "So let's look under it. If there's nothing there, fine. I'll back off."

Neal shrugged, stepping aside when Emma took his movement as an agreement and bent down to try and pry the floorboard up. Neal didn't help until she cleared her throat pointedly, and then he knelt down beside her. It didn't take long to lift the floorboard up, and Emma felt her cheeks burning when she saw nothing there.

"Well, what do you know?" Neal said with an irritatingly smug smile. "Nothing there."

Emma bit her lip. She had been so certain she'd find _something_ , and as bad as it was that she was doubting, once again, that her instincts had been right, it was worse to have Neal kneeling next to her and thinking the exact same thing.

"Listen," Neal started, his voice lacking the anger it had had only moments ago. "I know Tamara being here is a little awkward. I guess me being here is probably more than a little awkward, but-"

"Don't." Emma said quietly. "Just don't."

~~~*~~~

Despite their argument, Neal had offered to help her figure out what was going on. He had still seemed pleased that Emma's suspicions remained unproven, so she hadn't wanted to spend any more time with him, but a quick call from David had helped Emma decide what to do.

Rumplestiltskin had told her parents that he could use magic to help them track down Regina, but they'd been unable to persuade him to actually do so. With Neal there, Emma thought the Dark One might change his mind.

She couldn't keep searching Neal's room, and she had no idea where to continue searching for proof of Tamara's involvement. Instead, she'd refused to accompany Neal to his father's shop, telling him that David would call as soon as they knew anything, and after watching Neal and Henry start walking down Main Street towards the pawnbrokers, she spent a moment unsure of what to do.

After finding nothing, she didn't want to stand in the pawnbroker's shop and have to deal with the annoyingly sympathetic looks from her ex and from her mother.

She just wished things could be normal again. She wanted someone who trusted her and believed in her and _listened_ when she voiced her hunches. She didn't want raised eyebrows and sarcastic comments and aspersions on her emotional state.

Emma was halfway to the hospital before she even realised where she was walking to.

Once again, Killian wasn't in the ward, but it only took a few questions to the nurse to find out that she'd just missed him, and if she really needed to speak to him, he could probably be found in the cafeteria.

He was in the queue when she reached the large room, and she walked quickly towards him, the sight of him making her feel lighter than she had in hours, as though all she needed to do was be near him to feel like things weren't so bad.

She tapped his shoulder gently, chuckling when he jumped in surprise and turned to look at her. The moment their eyes met, a soft smile spread across his face and he nodded at her. The smile in his eyes quickly turned to concern as he looked her up and down.

"You look more exhausted every time I see you." He said in greeting, just as he took a plate of greasy lasagne from the server. "What do you fancy?"

"And I actually managed to sleep last night." Emma muttered with a laugh, her grin wider despite his comment. "And are you asking me to have lunch with you?"

"I am." He told her. "I can't guarantee the food will be pleasant, but the company should be."

The food definitely didn't look pleasant, but she couldn't say no. Not when he was smiling at her the way he was, not when she didn't want to be anywhere but with him.

"I suppose I could be tempted by a cheeseburger." She admitted, aware that she was grinning much too widely for someone whose town might be destroyed at any moment. He beamed back at her and then ordered what she'd asked for, her burger soon joining his lasagne on the tray.

They sat at one of the plastic tables, a pained groan escaping Killian's lips as he lowered himself into the chair. She winced at the sound, and he glanced up at her.

"I've been told I'm getting better." He told her. "Chest's still sore and my knee's… unreliable but the painkillers help. I'm sure I'll feel even better once I get the sling off. Rumour has it, that'll be tomorrow."

"So shouldn't you take them?" Emma asked, gesturing at the small cup of pills he had on the side of the tray. "If they help?"

"They can't be taken on an empty stomach." He explained, after eating a mouthful of his lasagne and grimacing.

It felt important to be with him. It was a strange moment to realise that, with him looking disgusted by the food, but that thought suddenly hit her. Regina's trigger could destroy Storybrooke at any moment and if it did, this could be the last time she saw Killian.

"What's wrong?" There had to have been a change in her expression, something to give away what she was thinking, because he'd stopped eating and was just looking at her, his eyebrows furrowed and his blue eyes full of concern. "What are you thinking about, Emma?"

"I told you about August, didn't I?" She started, looking down at the table when she saw sympathy in his gaze. "Someone else has gone missing and I think I know who's behind it. I think it's Neal's fiancée. I can just _feel_ that it's her."

"Have you told anyone?" He asked. "Do other people know?"

She let out a bitter chuckle. "Oh, I've told people. It looks like people would rather think I'm too tired or too emotional or too jealous to be thinking clearly. They don't even trust me enough to consider looking into it. They'd rather make up excuses than believe in me and… God, I hate this place. I was a bail bondsperson, you know? For years. I followed my intuition and I got the job done, but here, that doesn't matter to anyone. Here, I'm just 'crazy'."

He canted his head to the left as he looked at her. Emma watched as his fingers tightened around the fork he was holding, just for a second, and then he let the implement drop onto the tray and reached out towards her, hesitating for a moment before taking her hand in his.

"I believe you." He muttered, in the same low voice he used to use when they were alone, when they used to have whispered conversations in his cabin and lean in closer just to hear the others voice. "Whatever the others say, let me believe in you."

He played with her fingers as she smiled at him, his touch gentle as he ran his fingertips across her palm, over her pulse, before lacing their fingers together.

"Don't listen to the others." He murmured. "I know you're tired. I know you're… lonely. That doesn't make you weak. It doesn't make you _wrong_. It makes you incredible. If others can't see that, then don't listen to them. They don't know what they're talking about."

Emma couldn't look away from him, her hand rising to grasp at the coin hanging around her neck. He was so sincere, his hand warm around her own. She had to blink back tears, overwhelmed with how much she loved him, her throat thick with words she refused to say out loud.

"Go find proof." He said. "If it's her, there'll be something to find."

"And if it's not her?" she asked quietly. "If I'm wrong?"

"Then you're wrong." Killian said with a shrug. "Whatever the outcome, it doesn't mean they were right to disregard you. They should still listen. You're the Sheriff, aren't you?"

She smiled at him, aware that her lips were trembling, her eyes wet. "Thank you." She whispered, pushing her unfinished cheeseburger away from her, pulling her hand away from his. "I wish I could stay but you're right. I should find proof."

Killian nodded in understanding. "Do what you need to do."

Emma stood up, but before leaving the cafeteria, she moved around the table to stand beside Killian, resting her hand on his cheek as she tilted his head so he was looking up at her. "I mean it. Thank you. You're… You're incredible too."

She moved her thumb, the slight movement causing the pad of it to brush against his lips. He didn't move away, didn't react except to smile at her. She did the same thing, purposefully this time, and his smile softened further.

Emma thought she saw longing in his eyes, but maybe that was just something she wanted to see.

~~~*~~~

Even though Neal had texted her about leaving Henry with Lacey for the rest of the afternoon, it seemed Neal was still busy. She hadn't heard from David or Mary-Margaret, so for all she knew Neal might still be with them, still trying persuade his father to help. Wherever he was, she was just glad that his room at Granny's was deserted.

Breaking into the room took slightly less time than it had earlier. Once in the small room, she began rifling through it, checking under the mattress and the sheets before looking through the drawers and testing the floor for any more loose floorboards.

There was nothing in the bathroom cabinet, nothing in the toilet cistern, and soon, Emma was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that the only thing of any interest was the sand strewn across the closet floor, and even that didn't mean much.

She didn't get any warning that someone was approaching until she heard the door click open.

"Emma, what the hell?"

She stood up, her arms crossed over her chest, and met Neal with an unflinching stare. "I'm not going to stop looking just because you think I'm wrong."

"I don't _think_ you're wrong." Neal stated. "I know you are. Now get the hell out of my room."

"I know I'm right." Emma insisted. "I can feel it."

"You haven't found anything. Why don't you leave this alone and go help out your parents?" Neal suggested. "Papa gave them something so they can see where Regina is. They'll have found her soon. Don't you want to help them with whatever it is that's so urgent instead of breaking and entering?"

"I know I haven't found anything that proves she's involved. I also haven't found anything that proves she isn't." She told him. "As for Regina, David will call once they know anything. Where does Tamara run?"

"What?"

"There's sand everywhere. Where does she run?"

"The woods." He answered, shaking his head in disbelief when she raised his eyebrows at him and gestured back at the sandy floor. "Look, the sand doesn't mean anything. She's training for a marathon. She's running at least ten miles a day. I don't know her route. Maybe she goes across the beach."

"Or maybe she lied to you." Emma pointed out, ignoring how he rolled his eyes. "If she's going to lie to you about where she runs, why can't she have lied about more?"

"Okay." Neal snapped. "If you're going to be so stubborn about this, we'll go to the beach. We'll look for anything that might suggest Tamara's behind what's happened with Regina. I'll help you, but if we find nothing, you back off, alright?"

She clenched her jaw, glancing around the room to stop herself from looking at Neal as she considered his suggestion. "Only if you promise to search properly. I'm not backing off if we spend the next few hours glancing over her things. While we're searching, she's a suspect, not your fiancée. We find nothing, then fine."

"It's a deal." He agreed, reaching past Emma to grab a scarf from the closet and then heading back towards the corridor. "You coming?"

They were just heading out of Granny's when her phone rang, David's name printed across the screen. He sounded panicked when she answered, his breaths heavy and quick on the other end of line.

"David, what's going on?"

"Rumplestiltskin gave us something that allowed Mary-Margaret to see where Regina was. Or feel what Regina's feeling. I don't know exactly, but it's worked." David said quickly. "Whoever has Regina, they're hurting her."

"So we need to get to her soon." Emma stated, hurrying down the road towards the loft, Neal on her heels. "I'll be at the loft in ten minutes and then-"

"We don't need ten minutes." David told her. "Mary-Margaret couldn't see clearly but she could smell fish and salt. We don't know exactly where Regina is, but I think the docks are a good guess. We'll meet you there instead, alright?"

"Fish?" she repeated, turning around and starting down the familiar backstreets towards the docks and the Jolly Roger. "Anything more specific?"

"Sardines?"

She didn't need to hear anymore. She'd spent plenty of time on the docks since arriving in Storybrooke. She'd slept in Killian's cabin, the dockside buildings lit by streetlights all visible through the window. "It's the Cannery." She told him, assuming Neal was keeping up with her even as she started to run. "She's in the Cannery."

~~~*~~~

The Storybrooke Sardine Factory wasn't somewhere Emma had visited before, and from the looks of it, it seemed the same had held true for everyone else in town. If it hadn't stank of fish, she might have believed it had been out of use for years.

But if it _was_ a working factory, all the employees had gone home.

"You sure you want to be here?" Emma asked, drawing her gun as a shrill whistle pierced the air, steam hissing from a nearby pipe. "I can handle this."

"I'm not leaving you alone in this place." Neal insisted, for what felt the hundredth time. He'd accompanied her all the way down to the docks, which had surprised her, and he'd only hesitated to follow as they passed the Jolly Roger. He'd stopped walking and stared at it for a few minutes and then hurried to her side once he realised she'd moved on. "We don't even know what we're walking into."

"Look, Neal, if something goes down with Tamara, I need to know you've got my back." She said, her spare hand pressed against his chest and stopping him from standing at her side. "Otherwise, you can't come with me."

"Emma, if Tamara is hiding Regina here in her evil lair by the docks, then yeah, I got your back."

"Okay, then follow me." She ordered. "And be quiet."

They tiptoed through the dark factory, listening out for any sound that suggested Regina or Tamara were close by. They ducked under a large pipe and then followed it further into the depths of the factory, the smell of sardines getting more intense with every step.

And then, just before the pipe descended to a lower level, Emma heard a clatter. She stopped immediately, throwing her empty hand out to halt Neal in his tracks. They waited a moment, backed up against the pipe, and then, when another clatter echoed from the same place, she darted towards it.

Only to find David pointing a gun at her.

"What the hell, guys?" She asked, lowering her gun and rolling her eyes and David's sheepish expression. "Do you want everyone to know we're here?"

David shook his head. "Here." He said, crossing the space between them and handing her a walkie-talkie. "So that doesn't happen again."

"Thanks." She muttered. "So this is it? This is where you saw her?"

Mary-Margaret nodded. "I don't recognise the building but I definitely know the smell." She told them. "Now we're all here, we should hurry. The tear Rumplestiltskin gave me, it meant I could feel everything Regina is. I've never been in so much pain. Whatever they're doing to her, it's…"

Mary-Margaret trailed off, apparently unable to explain just how bad it was.

"Okay, you and David take the basement." Emma ordered. "We'll search the main floor. Regina's got to be here somewhere."

David nodded, the two of them striding past her, and then it was Emma and Neal again. She readied her gun once more and then lead him further into the building, the two of them following the maze of pipes across the factory floor.

"What will you do when you find her?" Neal asked suddenly, his voice a low mumble. "Regina?"

"I don't know." Emma admitted. "Storybrooke isn't exactly equipped for keeping magic people locked up, but if letting her go free in Storybrooke means she makes plans to take Henry away and destroy the entire town, we can't let that happen either."

"Yeah, I heard your parents mention the trigger when I was at Papa's shop." He muttered. "I guess all we can do right now is take the trigger away and hope that's enough to stop her."

There wasn't much more to say after that, and they explored the rest of the main floor in silence. Finding nothing, they retreated back to the factory exit. If David and Mary-Margaret found what they were looking for, it would be helpful to have someone guarding the way out.

"Emma?" David's voice buzzed out of the walkie-talkie. "You have to block the exits."

"Already on it." Emma replied, rising on to her tiptoes to grab the string door latch and starting to tug at the sliding hangar door, although it was too rusted to do anything more than shake slightly when she tried to bring it down. "You guys all right?"

"We're fine." David answered. "We found Regina, with Mendell. He's coming your way."

David's voice gave way to static, but Emma wasn't paying attention. Mendell? Greg Mendell? He'd barely crossed her mind since his arrival. How could it be him, the man with a Star Wars ringtone and boring photos of food saved on his phone? She'd been so certain it was Tamara.

"Greg Mendell?" She breathed. "Oh, God."

She'd spoken to him. Ran across him in the forest on her way to speak to August, only yards away from his trailer, and when he said he was sticking around, she'd told him it was pointless. That the only thing worth seeing was the Sardine Factory.

She'd disregarded Greg entirely, excused the uneasiness he'd made her feel because of what he'd done to Killian. And now August was dead and Regina had been held captive in the exact same place she'd mentioned to him.

"So I was right." Neal said. "It wasn't Tamara."

Emma opened her mouth to apologise, but didn't get the chance. Something smashed against the back of head, pain spidering out from where she'd been hit as she collapsed to the floor.

It didn't feel like any time had passed, but when Emma opened her eyes again, everything was different. Her head was throbbing, her vision slightly blurry, and Neal wasn't where he'd been a second ago. He was crumpled on the floor just in front of her, clasping at his shoulder and gazing up at Tamara. She had gun pointed towards him, her hands steady as she aimed at her fiancé.

"I'm sorry, Neal." Tamara said, too focused on preparing to execute Neal to notice Emma scrambling to her feet.

"You should be." Emma snarled, thankful that her vision was already clearing as she kicked Tamara's hand and knocked the gun away.

She didn't allow Tamara time to react, immediately throwing a punch towards the woman's face. Tamara was fast, the force from Emma's first swing only knocking her back for a moment before she was striking back. Emma ducked, one arm raised to block any further attacks, but Tamara had seen the move coming, and her next blow struck Emma in the stomach.

She doubled over, staggered out of the way, and then, instead of throwing another punch, Emma grabbed Tamara's hair, pulling it back and then slamming Tamara into the wall. It only disoriented her for a second, then she twisted out of Emma's hold and kicked out towards her, her foot slamming into Emma's knee and sending her reeling backwards.

Tamara grabbed her before she could fall down, her knee rising up to get Emma in the stomach and force the air out of her. She did the same again and again, until Emma was wheezing, but Emma had been in worse fights with bigger people, and she wasn't going to let Tamara win.

She grabbed at Tamara, one hand at the woman's waist, the other under her leg, and then she lifted her, standing up and using the momentum to force Tamara over her shoulder and send her crashing to the ground.

Emma ran for the gun, stooping to pick it up, and then she turned back, her hands steady as she levelled the gun towards Tamara. "It's over." She hissed, her finger on the trigger. "You're done."

Tamara gazed at her, her lips curled into a furious snarl, but she didn't say anything. She just glanced behind Emma and smiled. "No, not yet."

Someone knocked Emma aside, forcing her into the wall as they ran past her, to Tamara, and when Emma turned back, it was only her and Neal in the corridor.

"Emma?" Neal whimpered, as he pushed himself up onto his knees. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Emma panted. "A bit of headache, but could be worse. You?"

Neal didn't answer, grunting as he rested against the wall, his hand clasping at his shoulder. Blood was seeping between his fingers, his face white. "I can't move my arm." He stammered. "It won't stop bleeding."

"She shot you?" Emma asked in disbelief, dropping to her knees at his side and pressing both her hands firmly against the wound. He nodded, his breaths shallower than they had been only seconds before. "Look, it'll be okay. You're going to be fine. We'll get you to the hospital and you'll be okay."

"Emma, what happened?" She looked away from Neal to see David and Mary-Margaret standing in the hallway, Regina in David's arms. "What did Greg do?"

"Tamara." Neal said, drawing their attention to him. "It was Tamara. It was both of them. They got away. They-"

"Sssh." Emma soothed, muttering a quick thanks to Mary-Margaret when she rushed over and helped Emma get Neal to his feet. "It doesn't matter. Not right now."


	41. Chapter 41

** Chapter 41 **

It felt almost surreal to be sat in the back of an ambulance at Neal's side. Emma had watched as the EMTs gave him oxygen, connected him to a drip and an ECG, and then they'd sat in silence, Neal's heavy, pained breathing and the rhythmic beeping of the ECG the only things she could hear.

She wished she wasn't alone with him. David and Mary-Margaret had waited with her until the ambulance arrived, but instead of joining her, instead of sending Regina to the hospital too, they'd decided to ask Mother Superior to heal her. The same had been offered to Neal, but he'd told them, through gritted teeth, that he didn't need or want magic to mend his injuries.

Emma wasn't sure what to say, if she even _should_ say anything. When she'd been trying to cope with the realisation that Neal had betrayed her, she hadn't wanted to talk about it. She hadn't been _able_ to talk about it, and she hadn't also been dealing with a bullet in her shoulder.

It was probably better not to talk.

When they arrived at the hospital, she didn't wait to see where the doctors were taking Neal. Knowing Storybrooke General, she imagined it would be Dr Whale in charge of Neal's operation. She didn't know the doctor well, but if he could bring a man back to life, she was sure he could manage a regular procedure. Especially now that Ruby had told Emma he wasn't drinking anymore.

After telling the administration to call the pawnbrokers, Emma settled down in the waiting room and resigned herself to waiting. She would stay until she heard Neal would be alright, or until David and Mary-Margaret called to let her know Regina was conscious.

At least at the hospital, she didn't have to answer any of their questions about what had happened and she wouldn't have to hear apologies for how they hadn't believed in her.

"Emma?" She hadn't noticed Killian approach, but he was standing in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed together. "I didn't expect to see you here. Did something happen with Tamara?"

She blinked up at him. "And I didn't expect to see _you_ here. I thought your leg was-"

"It's not broken." He interrupted.

"Maybe not but I definitely remember being told that you should be resting and not putting weight on it." She pointed out, surprising herself when she realised she was smiling. "Not that it's not nice to to see you."

"Two times in just over as many hours." He stated, lowering himself into the empty chair to her right, his injured leg stretched out in front of him and his right arm slung across the back of her chair. "I'd say it's a good day if not for the fact that you're clearly unhappy."

"Yeah, well, I'm smiling more than I was a minute ago." She muttered, glancing over at him to see a pleased grin on his lips. "The last few hours have _not_ been fun."

"I'd have to agree." He told her, his voice light in what was an obvious attempt to cheer her up. "I tried to rest, but I have to say that a hospital room isn't the most entertaining of places. However, I imagine you'd be thankful for a few hours with nothing to do."

"Nothing to do sounds amazing." She admitted, taking a deep breath and then letting her head fall to the side and rest on Killian's shoulder. "I can't remember the last time I didn't have anything to do or to think about."

There was a moment's silence, as though he didn't know how to react, and then he slumped lower in his seat, his cheek coming to rest against her head and his arm moving from the back of the seat to wrap around her shoulders.

"So why are you here?" He asked. "What happened?"

"Give me a moment." She whispered, her eyes closing. "I just want to not think about anything for a minute."

He chuckled, the slight shaking of his shoulders more comforting than she would have expected, and for a few minutes, she finally felt relaxed.

"When I heard you'd accompanied my son to the hospital, I thought I'd find you looking more concerned." It was Rumplestiltskin speaking, and Emma opened her eyes to see him standing a few metres in front of her and Killian, the usual look of hatred on his face as he looked between the two of them. "It appears I overestimated you."

Emma wriggled out of Killian's one-armed embrace and stood up, purposefully standing between the two men. "I'm concerned. It doesn't mean I have to sit alone and look miserable."

"What happened to my son?"

"His fiancée shot him." Emma said bluntly. "I was a bit busy getting your son medical help to chase after her, but I got in a few good hits before she ran. It sounds like Neal will be fine, but I figured someone should let you know what's going on."

"His fiancée?"

Emma frowned. She hadn't heard Neal mention his father since arriving from New York, but she'd assumed that they'd been speaking. Perhaps what Rumplestiltskin had done to Cora hadn't just been the last straw for Lacey. "Yeah, Tamara. Didn't Neal tell you about her?"

Rumplestiltskin ignored the question. "Where is he?"

"He got _shot_ in the shoulder." Emma repeated. "He was taken straight into surgery."

"He won't need surgery." Rumplestiltskin snarled. "No matter what the doctor's achieved before, Whale's science won't help my son the way I can. Now, where did they take him?"

Emma refused to answer. Neal had told them he didn't want magic used on him, and she was pretty certain that magic was exactly what Rumplestiltskin was planning to use. Her refusal to answer didn't dissuade Rumplestiltskin, but it did drive him away, a furious glare on his face as he followed the signs to the Operating Theatre.

"Someone was shot?" Killian asked, once Emma had turned back round to look at him. "You were there?"

"It was all Tamara. I was right." She said in response, dropping back down into the seat she'd just abandoned and allowing Killian to immediately wrap his arm around her again. "I mean, she wasn't working alone but I _was_ right. About everything. I kind of wish I wasn't."

"Are _you_ alright?"

"I'm fine." She promised. "I'm not the one in hospital with a bullet in my shoulder. Or the one of us with three broken ribs."

"Point taken." He muttered. "Are you going to wait to hear if Neal's going to be okay?"

She was going to answer but her phone rang, Mary-Margaret's number flashing on the screen. "I guess not." She told Killian, standing up again and then turning to face him, leaning down to cup his cheek in her hand. "Thanks for sitting with me."

"Anytime."

~~~*~~~

Emma passed Mother Superior in the corridor as she made her way up the stairs to the loft. Mary-Margaret had called as soon as the fairy had confirmed that she could heal Regina, but she hadn't expected it to work quickly enough for the nun to have left the apartment by the time Emma returned.

Regina was sat on the side of David and Mary-Margaret's bed, Henry beside her, and although she was still pale and sweaty, being awake was an improvement. Mary-Margaret was fussing over the mayor, preparing her a plate of cookies and a glass of orange juice as though she'd just given blood, but Regina was already zipping up her boots and getting ready to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Emma asked, raising one eyebrow when Regina's hand paused with her boot halfway zipped up. "You can't leave here without telling us what's going on."

"What's going on?" Regina repeated. "If you understood what was going on, you wouldn't be standing around waiting for an explanation."

"Well, we don't understand, so get talking." Emma snapped. "Why did they take you? Why did they kill August?"

"I don't know." Regina admitted tiredly, accepting the offered glass of orange juice from Mary-Margaret. "I don't know why they would have hurt him. Maybe because he knew something about who they really were or what they really wanted"

"He knew enough to try and warn us." Emma muttered. "Not that it matters. Pinocchio never remembered anything and it's too late now to think about what he might have had to say. Maybe he knew what they wanted, maybe it was just that he knew Tamara wasn't who she was pretending to be. What _does_ matter is why they took you."

Regina was quiet, delaying her answer by taking a few long sips of juice. "I thought he had taken me because of what I did to him." She said in a hoarse whisper. "I was wrong."

"What _you_ did to _him_?" David asked, glancing around at everyone else as though he was hoping someone would explain. "I'd have expected that from someone from our realm but what could you have done to him in the past week?"

"It wasn't in the past week. It was twenty-eight years ago. He was camping with his father when Storybrooke appeared around them. He left but…." She glanced warily at Henry, and then seemed to resign herself to admitting exactly what had happened. "I killed his father. When I realised who Greg was, I thought he was here because of that. I _know_ he tortured me because of that, but it wasn't why they took me."

"The trigger, then?" Emma decided. "That's what they wanted."

"You know about the trigger?"

"Yeah." Emma told her. "And we know what you wanted to do with it. Did you get it? Do _they_ have it?"

"They captured me when I came back up from below the library, so yes." Regina answered, a bitter tone to her voice. "I had it. I don't anymore"

"That's where the trigger was?" Emma asked. "Do you often keep your weapons of mass destruction hidden with a dragon?"

"She's not exactly a _dragon_ anymore, Miss Swan, not after what you did to her." Regina explained. "But yes. Maleficent would have stopped anyone else from reaching the trigger."

"Not you?"

"I wasn't going to put the trigger somewhere I couldn't get to by myself. I didn't want to have to rely on having someone with me in order to reach it." That made sense, although Emma had to wonder why she'd even made a self-destruct button in the first place. "I went down and I got it and when I got out of the elevator, they ambushed me."

"You have magic." Mary-Margaret pointed out. "Couldn't you stop them?"

"Do you think I didn't try?" Regina snarled, nodding her head towards a leather cuff that lay on the bedside table. "I stepped out the elevator, the woman grabbed my arm and once that was on, I couldn't do magic. I couldn't even take it off. I had to get Mother Superior to do it."

"They have something that can stop people from doing magic?" David stepped away from the end of the bed to go and pick the leather cuff up, turning it over and over in his hand. "Who _are_ these people?"

"Whoever they are, they have the trigger."

"And what does that mean?"

Regina didn't need to answer the question, because seconds later, the world shook. Emma stumbled, gripping tightly to the iron bed frame, and wincing as several of Mary-Margaret's decorative ceramics fell from their shelves and smashed against the floor.

"They shouldn't have been able to do that." Regina muttered, bending down to finally finish doing up her boot. "The trigger needs magic and they don't have that."

"Well, they have _something_ that set it off." Emma stated, grimacing when the room shook again and even more decorations fell down and broke. "So either you're wrong about what the trigger needs, or they've found something else that works."

"I don't know." Regina protested. "The only thing powerful enough to destabilize something made of magic is magic itself. Or one of the dwarves pickaxes."

"They could have set it off with a dwarven axe?" Emma said disbelievingly, wishing the conversation was actually as ridiculous as it sounded. "Okay, so we look in the mines first."

"And then what?"

"Then we stop it."

"There is no _stopping_ it." Regina spat, getting to her feet and staggering when everything shook again. "The only thing we can do is slow it down, but that will only delay the inevitable. Storybrooke is going to be destroyed, Miss Swan, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Maybe not." David muttered, passing the leather cuff to Mary-Margaret and then taking hold of Regina's elbow to keep her steady. "But if you can slow it down, we might have the time to get away."

"Get away?" Regina repeated. "What's your plan? To cross the town line and try to make a life as recovering amnesiac David Nolan and his girlfriend, the irritatingly sweet Mary-Margaret? To ask the rest of town to do the same?"

"No." David told her. "Jefferson took his hat back, right? We need the time to find him and get everyone through the hat and into the Enchanted Forest before Storybrooke is gone."

"Okay." Emma interrupted them before they could start discussing David's idea. They didn't have any time to waste, especially if they were relying on Jefferson. As far as they knew, Jefferson had already escaped Storybrooke the moment he felt the first tremor. "David, go find him. Mary-Margaret, take Henry and gather as many people as you can at Granny's. Tell them what's happening and what their options are."

Mary-Margaret frowned at her, although she was already fetching Henry's coat from by the door. "Options?"

"I know you don't agree, but there might be a few people who'd rather start a new life outside Storybrooke than return to the Enchanted Forest. Whatever they decide, make sure they're ready to go as soon as we have the hat." Emma explained. "Regina and I will go after Greg and Tamara."

Emma pulled Henry aside as he walked past her, dropping a quick kiss to his forehead and then letting him continue towards Mary-Margaret.

"Henry?" Regina called, stumbling over towards him. Henry stopped, one arm halfway into his coat sleeve, and turned to look at his mother. "Before you go, I just want to say I'm sorry. For everything. I want you to know that I won't let you be alone and that I love you."

Henry seemed taken aback, glancing around at everyone in the room, and then then he smiled at Regina. "I love you, too."

He pulled on his coat and then darted back across the loft to wrap his arms around Regina's waist. Emma watched as the woman hugged him tightly, a sad smile on her lips as she shared her first hug with her son since the curse had broken.

Regina reluctantly let Henry go and then turned to look at Emma. "Let's go. We don't have a lot of time."

~~~*~~~

Emma didn't even need to step into the mines to know that they were in the right place. As she stepped closer to the mine, it felt like the air was getting thinner, her chest growing tight. She didn't know exactly what was causing such a reaction, but if she was going to guess, she'd wager it was something to do with the trigger.

She led Regina through the tunnels, following the paths that gave her the most difficulty breathing, and they soon found the trigger, a glowing crystal floating a few inches above a large rock. Tamara and Greg were nowhere to be seen.

"I can feel it." Emma breathed, reaching a gloved hand out towards the shaking gem. "It's like it's sucking all the oxygen out of the air."

Regina slapped her hand away before she could touch it. "It's not the oxygen." She told her. "It's the magic. I didn't think you'd be able to feel it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you were wrong." Emma muttered. She'd barely thought about magic since Killian had crossed the town line, and before the incident, she'd been determinedly trying not to think about Rumplestiltskin's declaration that she had magic of her own. With Storybrooke about to be destroyed, it definitely wasn't the time to start dwelling on that revelation again. "What do we have to do?"

" _You_ don't have to do anything." Regina snapped. "Once it stops glowing, that's it. Storybrooke will be gone. I'll try to contain its energy as long as I can."

"Hopefully it won't need to be for too long." Emma said reassuringly, watching as Regina raised her hands to the sides of the crystal, her brow furrowing as magic seemed to start leaping from the crystal into Regina's fingertips. "Once David finds Jefferson, we can all get out of here."

"To the Enchanted Forest?" Regina asked, a bitter laugh falling from her lips. "Do you think I didn't notice how quick you were to point out that people could just leave Storybrooke? You don't want to go back. You want to make sure everyone will be alright, and then you want to leave. You want to take Henry back to Boston, or to anywhere else that isn't the Enchanted Forest."

"I don't…" Emma couldn't deny it. She wasn't ready to jump through a hat into a life in another realm. This was a land she understood, somewhere she fit in far more than she thought she ever would in the Enchanted Forest. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Regina stared at her, and then sighed. "As long as Henry isn't alone, I don't suppose it makes a difference."

It was the last response Emma had expected, and as soon as Regina said that, Emma was suddenly hit with a dreadful realisation. "You're not coming with us, are you? That's why it doesn't matter where I go."

"Slowing the device… It's going to require all the strength I have." Regina admitted. "I can get you enough time to leave and save Henry, but there won't be time for me to follow. I don't know if I'll be _able_ to follow."

"So when you said goodbye to Henry, you were… saying goodbye." Emma muttered, needing to say it out loud to get her head around exactly what Regina was doing. "What am I supposed to tell Henry? That you're just not coming?"

"No, not that."

"Isn't there another way?" Emma had to ask, knowing Henry would want her to, but from the way Regina's entire body was already shaking, she had the terrible feeling that she already knew what the answer was going to be.

"He knows I love him, doesn't he?" Regina questioned instead, a desperate gleam appearing in her eyes. "He hasn't seen me lately. You wouldn't let me… I know why you didn't. I know I didn't treat him the way I should have, but I _do_ love him. I've never loved anyone more than I love him. Do you think he knows that?"

"Yeah." She couldn't have said anything else, but despite everything that had happened, she was certain her answer was the truth. "He knows."

"Then tell him… tell him that you were right. When you told me I hadn't changed." Regina said breathlessly. "Everything that's happening, it's my fault. Greg led people here because of what I did to him. They got their hands on the trigger because I went to get it. But make sure he knows that, in the end, it wasn't too late for me to do the right thing. For him."

"Regina-"

"You'll make sure he's happy, won't you? Wherever he is." Regina pleaded, another tremor shaking the ground just as a sob ripped through her. "And that he knows what I've done. Everyone looks at me as the Evil Queen, including Henry. Let him know that when I died, I was just Regina."

Emma stared at the woman, uncertain what to do. She wanted to leave, to get Henry and Killian and get the hell out of Storybrooke before time ran out, but she couldn't walk away and leave Regina to die.

Regina's hand flexed, and if Emma thought she'd been slowing the crystal before, it was nothing compared to the flares of magic that were now bursting from the crystal, connecting to Regina's fingertips like it was one of those plasma lamps she remembered from science.

"Go." Regina shouted, throwing her head back as the magic appeared to start passing through her. "Get out of here!"

Emma turned, starting to run back out of the mines and then stopping just before she turned the corner and left Regina alone.

"Thank you." She stated, although she wasn't sure if Regina could hear her. "And I'm sorry."

She turned the corner and kept running.

~~~*~~~

Granny's wasn't as full as Emma had expected it to be. She froze in the entrance, looking around at what seemed to be Mary-Margaret's friends and whoever else had happened to be in the diner at the time. At least David had managed to find Jefferson, who was standing awkwardly at the counter with his daughter, Granny's crossbow levelled at him.

"This isn't everyone." She said, frowning when Mary-Margaret turned to face her, flanked by the seven dwarves and Archie. "What is this? You spread the news to the Royal Court and just left it at that?"

"We called as many people as we could." Mary-Margaret said. "Leroy has a phone tree."

"And we have the hat." David added, gesturing over at the top hat tucked under Jefferson's arm. "We can go as soon as you're ready."

"There's hardly anyone here." Emma protested. "We can't go yet. Where's Killian? Where's Neal?"

"Hopefully, on their way." Ruby promised. "I called Victor and he said he'd be here soon."

"I'll go get them." She decided, turning her back on the diner and starting to step back outside, stopping when she felt someone grab hold of her elbow. She turned to see that it was David, and he was shaking his head at her. "What?"

"The tremors are getting worse." He told her. "We don't know how long we have. What if there isn't time?"

She gaped at him, looking around at the crowd in disbelief. They were supposed to be heroes. Maybe they couldn't save everyone, but there had to be more people wanting to escape than the ones Mary-Margaret and Henry had gathered.

This crowd couldn't be enough for them. They _couldn't_ be expecting her to nod in agreement and leap through Jefferson's hat into a life she didn't want when the man she loved was still in the hospital.

"I don't care." She snapped. David seemed to want to say something, but she didn't let him. "I'm not running away from this if it means leaving Killian. I'm not doing that again. I can't."

She swallowed down a sob at the thought. She'd already left him behind once before, back when she was afraid of what she felt for him, afraid that he'd leave her. It had been too painful, even before she understood why. She'd sat under a tree, the giant's compass in one hand, and she'd _hurt_.

It wasn't as though she hadn't left people before. If things got too much, if she started to care, she'd get her things and she'd walk away, and it never hurt. Not like it would when they undoubtedly left her.

Things were different with Killian. It would hurt when - _if_ \- he left her, but she couldn't imagining it being worse than what she already felt at the thought that she wouldn't see him again, wouldn't kiss him or wake up to him again.

She'd sat under that tree and decided that he would have been worth the risk, if only she hadn't left him at the top of the beanstalk and sentenced him to whatever terrible punishment Cora would give him once she found out he didn't have what she needed.

It was a decision she was sticking to. Whatever the risk, it was worth taking.

"You guys should start going through the portal." She ordered, only needing to take in one shaky breath before she had composed herself and didn't feel like one more word would start her crying. "Henry and I will go and get Killian and then we'll get out of town. Time starts running out, and Henry and I will just go. But I have to try."

"You're not coming with us?" David asked, sharing a horrified look with his wife. "You're not going to-"

"Of _course_ we're going with you." Henry said. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Henry…" Emma wasn't sure to say. The decision had seemed so easy when she was talking to Regina, when she wasn't looking at the devastation on her son's face, on her _parents'_ faces. "I've been in the Enchanted Forest and it sucks. We don't have to go there to escape. We don't have to… Killian doesn't even remember that place and what I remember, well, I don't want to go back to that."

"But we have to." Henry insisted. "They're family. It's our home. It's where you're from. You _just_ found them."

"I can't-"

"Fine." Henry said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping his foot. "Go back to Boston. But I'm not going to go with you. We're meant to be a family. We're meant to be together. And you'll leave and Storybrooke will go away and you'll realise you were wrong and you won't be able to come back."

Emma pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to show how uncertain Henry's words had made her, how she was just about ready to break down. "Okay." She said quietly. "Okay. I'll go. But not without him. Regina should get us enough time for me to go and get him in the Bug. I'll get him and I'll come back and we'll go."

"And my mom?" He asked. And she knew the words she wanted to say to Henry, Regina had given her them, but she couldn't voice them. Emma knew the second he understood why she couldn't speak, devastation settling on his face. "No. She can't, she… she has to come back with us."

"Unless she stays with the trigger and slows it down, none of us are going to get home." Emma explained. "She did it for you. To make sure you're safe. That you aren't left alone when Storybrooke disappears."

"We can't leave her!" Henry protested. "She's family too. She has to come through the hat with us!"

"The hat!" Mary-Margaret exclaimed suddenly, drawing Emma's attention. "We can use the hat."

"Yeah," Emma stated, confused. "I thought that was already the plan?"

"No, Emma. We send the _self-destruct_ through the hat. It worked for the wraith." She explained, an air of excitement surrounding her. "Or, it would have, if Hook hadn't jumped through too."

"We don't know how the trigger works." Emma told her. "We don't know if that will work."

"It _could_."

"Do I get a say?" It didn't look like anyone had expected Jefferson to speak up, almost everyone in the diner turning to look at him. "Because I say that it doesn't matter if that would work or not. Regina is the reason we're all in this mess. Regina's ruined more lives than we can count. If she has to die for us to get away safely, I say we let her."

"And that's why you don't get a say." David muttered, rolling his eyes. "I think Henry's right. I think Snow's right and I think it's worth the risk."

"Maybe you do." Emma said. "But no one's going to go along with it."

"Yes, we will." It was Archie speaking, stepping into the center of Granny's like some sort of designated spokesperson. "It's the right thing to do. Snow White and the Prince have always led us before, and we've always won. Who here is ready to let them lead us again?"

Despite the overwhelming sounds of agreements, Jefferson's complaints were loud enough to hear. Not that it looked like anyone else was listening.

"Then we're agreed." David said, grinning at everyone in the diner. "We take the hat, we send the trigger somewhere else and we hope it's enough to save us."

"There isn't time for hope." Jefferson snarled. "It's my hat. We use it when _I_ say so, and I say, if any of you want to use it, you do it now. I'm not going to hand it over to you so that you can trap us all here."

"You don't need to hand it over." David told him. "Because you're coming with us. You're the one who can use the hat."

"No."

"Papa, you _have_ to." The young girl at Jefferson's side had stayed quiet until then, just watching, but her father's refusal to help seemed to have spurred her into talking. "Mom and Dad aren't here, they don't know what's… I don't want to leave them behind. I want you to try and save them."

Jefferson grimaced, closed his eyes and then let out a loud sigh. "If that's what you want, my dear Grace, then that's what I'll do."

"Okay, great." Emma stated. "Let's go."

Jefferson gave Grace a kiss on the cheek before David led him out of the diner, Mary-Margaret and Henry following close behind them. Emma made to go with them, but Leroy grabbed her arm before she could.

"What?" She asked harshly. "Whatever you want, now isn't the time."

"This might be the only time." Leroy told her, pressing a small vial of blue liquid into her hand. "Blue made this earlier this afternoon. What Snow wants to do, it's a risk. We thought Sneezy would want to be himself again, with his family, when everything went to hell. Give this to Hook and he can do the same. If he drinks it out of something important to him, he'll remember."

She gripped the small vial tightly. "Thank you."

"Nothing to it."

Emma smiled at Leroy, the widest smile she'd ever given him, and left the diner. Mary-Margaret and Henry were still there, waiting for her, and she could see David marching Jefferson down the street.

"What happened?" Mary-Margaret asked. "Why did Leroy keep you back?"

"Go with David." Emma ordered. "Both of you. I'm going to find Killian. I don't know if the hat's going to work. Maybe it won't. But if we're going to die, Killian deserves to choose what man he's going to die as. Thanks to Leroy, he can."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get his flask from his cabin, and I'm going to give him this." She told him. "I'm going to tell him what it does, I'm going to say goodbye and then I'll come and find you. I know we don't have a lot of time, but this is something I need to do."

She pulled Henry into a tight embrace, feeling him clutch back just as tightly, and then she dropped a last kiss to his forehead. "I love you." He mumbled into her, the words muffled by her jumper. "Now go save him."

"I love you too." She whispered. "More than anything."

He let go then, and for only a moment, she watched him and Mary-Margaret wander after David, away from her.

And then she ran.

~~~*~~~

Storybrooke General was in chaos. People were shouting at one another, trying to understand what was going on, although no one seemed to have an explanation other than earthquakes. Emma didn't even bother to correct anyone, fighting through the groups of people blocking the corridors to Killian's ward.

Emma hoped he was still in his hospital room, although the Killian she knew wouldn't be one of the patients waiting around to hear what was going on. He'd be roaming the corridors, searching for answers, and if he was doing that, finding him would be trickier than she would have liked.

But he _was_ in his hospital room. He was out of bed, out of his sling and out of his hospital robes, dressed in a pair of scrubs instead, and as soon as she appeared in the doorway, he stopped whatever he was doing and stared right at her.

The grazes on his face had faded to pink, his hair wild, and the sight of him was distracting enough, _handsome_ enough, to stop her in her tracks, her eyes roaming over him. If this was the last time she saw him, it was a _good_ last image.

"Why are you-?"

"I have no clothes here." He explained. "With everything that's happening, whatever it is, I wanted make sure you were alright. I asked Whale to lend me some clothes and I was going to leave the hospital so that I could find you. What _is_ going on?"

"There isn't time to explain." She muttered, her grip tightening on Killian's flask. "Not properly. You just need to know that the town's collapsing and if I can't stop it, we're all going to die."

He gaped at her. Whatever he was expecting her to say, that clearly wasn't it. "How is that… If that's what's going on, why are you here with me?"

She couldn't understand why he was asking her that. Hadn't she made it clear that she cared for him? "I had to see you. I had to-"

"One last visit?" He interrupted, limping across the small space between them and cupping her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing gently across the curve of her cheek. "Just in case?"

"And this." She breathed, holding his flask towards him. He didn't respond, seeming to be as intent on looking at her, memorising her, as she was him. She never wanted to look away, but when he didn't notice the flask in her hand, she glanced pointedly at it. "Here."

"What's this for?" He asked, his hand leaving her cheek so that he could take the flask from her. "I'm not sure if I want to be drunk when the world ends. Then again,-"

"It's a potion." She explained. "It will bring your memories back."

"A potion?"

"Look, I know it sounds crazy." She told him, a broken laugh escaping her lips. He'd spent months keeping the truth of the curse from her, because he'd known how she'd react, but now she had to convince him, and she had only a few minutes to do so. "But you should be able to decide who you want to be. The man you are now, or the man you used to be. I figured I should give you the choice before… before we die."

"We're not going to die." Killian said, staring down at the silver flask in his hand as he spoke. "I know that."

"Yeah, well, I think you've got a bit more confidence in me than you should have. What's happening isn't something I can control. I'm just really hoping that our plan works." She mumbled. "But I guess it doesn't matter what might happen. Not for this."

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the flask tightly, and after one last look at him, determination clear in his face, as though he'd decided what he was going to do, she turned to leave.

She only took one step before she heard a clatter, and she had to turn round, had to see if he'd chosen _not_ to remember. He'd dropped the flask onto the small bedside table, and he was moving towards her, as though he was going to chase after her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, unable to look away from the abandoned flask. "You're not going to-"

"I…" Killian seemed uncertain about what to say, although he took another step closer to her, his gaze darting briefly to her lips. "I wanted to kiss you."

"What?" Her breath caught, watching him as he took another step towards her, his hand reaching out for hers. Once her hand was in his, he pulled her even closer. "Now?"

"Emma, if you're right, if you can't control what happens, then this might be it." He muttered. "I don't know what's happening. I don't even know if that potion will work. What I _do_ know is that if I die, if I don't die, I want to know what it's like to kiss you. To hold you."

"So drink that and you'll know." She whispered. "I can't… I don't…"

She wasn't sure what she was going to say in protest. She felt like she _should_ say something, maybe that she didn't have time or that were other things she should be doing, but now he'd suggested it, now that he _wanted_ it, it was the only thing she could think of doing.

In that moment, all there was was Killian.

"You're all I think about." He whispered, when she inched even closer and rested her hands on his shoulders. "I don't understand it, I can't, but all I want is to…"

His voice trailed away, and she watched as his jaw clenched and he swallowed down whatever words he had wanted to say. She didn't know what he would have said, but she couldn't find it in her to care. He'd already said enough.

All she did was nod.

Killian shuffled even closer, leaned in, and then time didn't matter anymore. They didn't kiss, not then. They just stood close, her hands on his shoulders, his arms around her waist, their noses touching. And then it was too much, and Emma couldn't wait any longer.

She slid her hands up to cup his face and then tilted her head up just enough so that their lips were touching. Not even an hour earlier, Emma had walked out of the mines and felt the magic come back, felt her chest loosen and been able to _breathe_ again. Their kiss was chaste, nothing like the passion they'd shared before, but it felt just as wonderful, as if his kiss was just as necessary to her as breathing.

It was only when she started to pull away that he reacted, his hand flexing on her hip as he tugged her even closer and just _kissed_ her, desperate and demanding. She clung to him, her hands in his hair, on his chest, around him and she didn't know if the ground was shaking, or if it only felt that way because she was finally back in his arms.

And she didn't remember it, but he must have moved them, turned them around so she was pressed back against the side of the bed, the metal bars digging almost painfully into her back. She didn't care, she liked that it hurt just enough for her to know that their kiss was really happening. He pressed into her, Emma using one hand to grip the bedframe, to keep both of them steady, her other hand in his hair.

She didn't know if he'd ever stop kissing her, she didn't _want_ him to. She whimpered when he pulled away, when he moved his kisses from her lips to her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Emma held him there, her head thrown back as he sucked lightly where he'd just kissed her, his hand busy undoing the buttons of her coat. He nudged the heavy fabric aside, his mouth moving just a bit lower, so that he was tracing the line of her collarbone with small kisses.

She'd missed him so much. She _loved_ him so much.

And she couldn't stay any longer.

She panted his name, using her hold on his hair to gently tug his head away from her. He looked at her, his expression dazed, his eyes wide, and she didn't want to walk away.

"I have to go." She breathed. "I have to save the day. I have to save my son, save _you_."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she didn't let him, pressing one final quick kiss to his lips before ducking under his arms, out of his embrace. She picked up the flask from where he'd left it, pressed it into his open hand, and when he finally stopped looking at her, glancing down at the potion in his hand, she walked away.

~~~*~~~

She had a missed call from David, although she hadn't even noticed her phone vibrating while she was with Killian. She didn't know what it was about, or why he'd called, and she couldn't find out. The first thing that seemed to have gone as part of Storybrooke's destruction was the phone signal.

Whatever was going on, she decided the best thing to do would be to return to the mines, and to her family, as quickly as possible.

She would have picked up her Bug from Granny's, but the roads were starting to break down, cracks spidering along the tarmac. She'd be quicker at avoiding potholes if she travelled on foot. She edged around a steadily growing hole, turned into one of the back alleys that led towards the mines, and then barrelled straight into Jefferson.

That had to be why David had called, wanting to tell her that Jefferson had run off and taken their only hope with him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked angrily, gazing down in horror at the top hat he had clenched in his hand. "Why aren't you with David?"

"Because I refuse to risk everything because the royal family demands it." He spat, a furious scowl on his face. "I've done that before and I lost it all. You might be willing to trust that your parents plan will work, but I'm not."

"So what?" Emma spat. "You're just going to take the hat and run away?"

"It sounded like a better plan." Jefferson said with a shrug. "Go be with your family. Go and be heroes but don't force me to help. I'm taking Grace and we're getting out of here."

"You can't." She couldn't believe Jefferson was standing there, unflinching at the thought of what his actions would lead to. "You do that and you're condemning everyone to death."

"No, _you_ are." If she'd thought he'd looked furious before, she had been wrong. There was desperation in his expression, something dark beneath that that made him seem like the madman she'd first met. "I was willing to let anyone who wanted to escape through my hat. You're the one who's risking the only chance of survival on the hope that you can save the day. You don't even know how the trigger works. Your parents might be able to use words to get what they want, but I'm not going to listen. I'm going to save my daughter."

"She'll hate you." Emma warned, trying one final time to convince him to help before she just snatched the hat from him. "You know what she wanted and it wasn't this. She wanted you to save everyone."

"I don't care." He said, the anger gone from his voice so that he sounded miserable. "I'd rather have her hate me and _live_ than do what she wants and have her die."

"Then I can't let you go."

She rushed at him, fully prepared to wrestle the hat out of his grip, but he was ready for her, quickly side-stepping out of the way before she could even try to grab at the hat. He shoved her, sending her stumbling off the sidewalk and when she tried to steady herself and push back, she tripped on a new, growing crack in the road.

Emma fell forward, the palms of her hands slamming painfully against the ground, and Jefferson ran away.

"Come back here, you son of a bitch!" She yelled after him, although she already knew he wouldn't do what she said.

She considered chasing him, running after him until she had the top hat in hand and could try to do what they'd planned, but she didn't know how long they had left. She'd wasted time with Killian, and even more time talking to Jefferson, and she'd seen how the magic had been draining Regina.

And if they didn't have long, if everything was going to end in the next ten minutes, she didn't want to be running after the Mad Hatter. She wanted to be with her family.

~~~*~~~

She found David, Mary-Margaret and Henry huddled together near Regina. The crystal was glowing brighter than it had been before, vibrating furiously, and somehow, just by looking at it, Emma knew she had been right about not having a lot of time.

"Emma?" Mary-Margaret was the first to see her, as she was only one facing the tunnel Emma had walked down. "Oh, thank goodness. I was starting to think that… Jefferson ran, Emma. There's nothing we can do. Regina can't… there isn't much longer."

If she hadn't already felt that, she would only have needed to look at Regina. The mayor was exhausted, looking even paler than she had after they'd rescued her from Greg, her hands visibly shaking with the effort of keeping the trigger from detonating.

"I'm sorry, Emma." David said quietly, after Emma had taken the last few steps towards them. "I didn't expect Jefferson to try and get away, but-"

"It doesn't matter now." Emma interrupted, bending down to hug Henry, his arms gripping her back tightly. David didn't need to explain, not when he had an angry, red mark on his head, not when there wasn't time. "We should all be together. Not running after him."

"Yes, yes, you're right." Mary-Margaret agreed. She was crying, holding desperately to David as he pressed occasional kisses to her head. "At least we're all here."

It was seeing Mary-Margaret's tears that made it impossible for Emma to keep hers at bay. She broke, holding Henry even tighter. He clutched at her, his shoulders shaking with his own tears.

She didn't want this to be the end. She hadn't had enough time, not with Henry, not with Killian and definitely not with her parents. She hadn't _let_ them be her parents, had barely even spent time with Mary-Margaret since the curse had broken.

And now, she was standing underneath Storybrooke, her coat damp from her son's tears, and it didn't matter who Mary-Margaret and David were, if they were her parents or her friends, it just mattered that they were there.

She wished Killian was with them. She should have given him a proper goodbye, shouldn't have run away, but some part of her had truly believed it wouldn't be goodbye, that her parents plan would work. Now, whether he remembered or not, he'd be alone when the town fell apart.

Another sob tore through her at the thought, and soon Mary-Margaret was at her side, her arms around both Emma and Henry. David was there too, one arm around his wife and the other cupping Emma's head, holding her to his chest as she cried.

"Mom," she whimpered, releasing one arm from around Henry to cling at Mary-Margaret. "Dad…"

There was nothing she wanted to say to them. She just closed her eyes and sank into their embrace, taking what comfort she could from it, from them. And even though there wasn't anything they could do, being held by them, both of them, made her feel as though somehow everything might be alright.

She felt Henry wriggling out from the center of the hug, so she drew back slightly, giving him space to get out and wander over to his other mother. Regina glanced at him, a sad smile on her lips as she looked from him to Emma and her parents. "I love you, Henry." She told him, her voice only strong enough for a hoarse whisper. "I wish I was strong enough to stop all of this, but I'm not. I don't have enough magic."

"You need more magic?" Henry asked, his expression brightening. "That's all? Then Mom can help."

"Me?" Emma repeated, leaving her parents embrace to turn and stare at Henry. "How am I supposed to help?"

"You have magic, right? You told that's what Rumplestiltskin said." Henry insisted, an excited grin on his face as he ran over and started to tug Emma back towards Regina. "You can do it. Together, you can do it."

"I've _never_ used magic for anything." Emma protested, eyeing the sparks of magic from the crystal with uncertainty. "Just because I have it doesn't mean I can use it. I don't even know how to start."

"You used it before." David interjected, with the same exact expression that was on Henry's face. "In the Enchanted Forest. What were you thinking about then? Maybe if you think about the same thing…?"

Emma bit her lip and took one nervous step towards Regina. There was nothing to lose if she tried. And maybe she could do it. Maybe she could save everyone. The last time she'd used magic, against Cora, she'd only been thinking about one thing. Saving Killian.

Now, she wanted to save everyone.

She took a deep breath and then mirrored Regina, standing on the other side of the crystal and raising her hands to it, like it was a fire and she wanted to warm up.

Eyes closed, she took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind of all the panic and all the urgency so that she could picture what she was going to do. She could do this, she _had_ to do this. If she didn't, then that it was it. Storybrooke would be gone. David and Mary-Margaret would be gone. Killian would be gone.

And Henry would be all alone, just like she'd been.

She opened her eyes, looked right at Henry and then she _felt_ it. Magic.

It was boiling inside of her, something that she didn't understand but something she could _use_ , something warm and light and powerful that she just had to set free. One more deep breath in and then she flexed her hands in mid-air, exhaled, and let everything go.

The crystal seemed to surge with energy, and then the blue sparks surged towards her hand. It felt like she was drawing in all the magic that the crystal was emitting, as though every fibre of her being was being saturated by magic, and all she could do was hope that she could take enough of the magic into her so that the trigger couldn't work.

The air pulsed, and then the crystal exploded.

"Emma? Emma, honey?" The voice sounded distant and unfamiliar at first, as Emma came back to consciousness, but when she was more aware, she realised it was Mary-Margaret speaking to her, shaking her shoulders and begging her to wake up. "Come on, Emma. You _did_ it."

Emma groaned, blinking a few times to see that she was still in the mines, the crystal, no longing glowing, rocking on the floor just beside her. Nearby, sprawled across the ground, was Regina.

"Storybrooke's… fine?" She asked dazedly, letting David lift her gently back to her feet. "You're sure we did it?"

"Well, I haven't checked outside the mines, but I've got signal again." David told her. "I doubt the afterlife has phone service. Then again, I'm already being bothered by Leroy and his phone tree, so I guess this could be hell."

She had to laugh, torn between relief that everyone was going to okay and disbelief at what she'd done. Once her legs felt steady, she shrugged David's assistance away and darted over to Regina, bending down to check that the other woman was awake.

"You okay?" She asked, as Regina groaned and staggered to her feet. "Looks like we did it."

Regina sighed, staring incredulously at Emma as she picked up the dull crystal and shoved it in her coat pocket. "Yes, we did."

"I have to hand it to Henry." David said lightly, moving past Emma to offer assistance to the mayor. "He's right about a lot of things."

"Yeah, he is." Emma agreed proudly, turning towards where he'd been standing before she blacked out. "Isn't that right, kid? Henry?"

He wasn't there.

~~~*~~~

They'd found Henry's backpack abandoned in the mine tunnels, halfway to the exit, and they'd quickly agreed that it had to be Greg and Tamara behind it. Regina had started to blame herself, stating that the only reason they could have had to take Henry was to punish her for how she'd destroyed Greg's family,

After the lengths they'd been willing to go to destroy Storybrooke, Emma was worried that their reasons for taking Henry were something far worse.

The only place they knew Tamara and Greg has been was the Sardine Factory, so that was where they ran, darting back through the narrow, now-unbroken, back alleys on their way to the docks. Regina was still stumbling, her hour spent draining the magic from the trigger having clearly exhausted her.

Emma felt tired too, as though absorbing what power she could from the crystal had left her heavy and lethargic, and she'd only assisted for a short time. Nowhere near as long as Regina had held on for.

They saw Henry in the distance the moment they turned onto the docks. He was flanked by the figures of Greg and Tamara, both of them gripping onto his arms and dragging him forward.

Emma couldn't tell where they were going - there was nowhere for them to go, not the way they were going, and the realisation that they were walking into a dead end spurred Emma into hurrying up. They could reach them, they could get Henry back, and then she'd make sure Greg and Tamara caused no more chaos.

"Can you stop them?" David asked, as they rushed along the docks, towards the jetty where the Jolly Roger stood. "Use some magic or something to keep them still?"

"I can't use _any_ magic right now." Regina snapped. "Stop asking questions and keep moving!"

Emma wasn't listening to their bickering. She was too busy watching whatever was happening at the far end of the docks. The three of them had stopped moving, and although Greg still seemed to have a tight hold on Henry, Tamara had let him go and was pacing back and forth across the end of the dock.

She didn't understand what they were doing, but she wasn't going to complain that they were no longer running away.

"Stay where you are!" She yelled, once they were close enough. "We've got you. Whatever you wanted, you failed. Let go of Henry!"

Tamara laughed. "We haven't _failed_. We've barely started." She shouted back, grabbing at Henry again and pulling him back towards the end of the pier. "You might have stopped Storybrooke from being destroyed, but you can't even imagine what we can do. You don't know who we work for. You don't know what they want."

Emma didn't care who they worked for. She just wanted Henry out of their reach, especially with the way Tamara was smirking.

And then Emma didn't know what was happening. It didn't look like Tamara and Greg knew what was happening, both of them starting to yell in confusion as what looked like a shadow swooped down from the sky. It seized Henry by the wrist, lifting him into the air and away from Greg and Tamara, away from everything.

Emma screamed out Henry's name, almost falling over as she sprinted across the remaining distance between her and Greg and Tamara. Henry was long out of reach, already either too far or too high for her to see, and she didn't understand how it happened, but she was certain it was their fault.

"What was that?" She yelled, grabbing at Tamara's collar and angrily tugging her forward. "Who took Henry?"

"I don't know." Tamara stammered, suddenly far less confident than she'd been seconds before. "I don't know what that was. It wasn't… The Home Office said they wanted us to destroy magic. It couldn't have been anything to do with us. Whatever that thing was, it _wasn't_ normal."

"If they wanted to destroy magic, why did you take Henry?" She asked, vaguely aware that David had finally reached them and was wrestling Greg into a pair of handcuffs. "Why did you take him here, where that thing could reach him?"

"Because they told us to." Tamara admitted, glancing guiltily away from Emma. "We were told to destroy the town and to get Henry to them. They said that obtaining Henry was our top priority, and once we had him, they would meet us here, at the docks."

"Well, it looks like they found you." Emma spat. "It also looks like you weren't important enough to save. Your so-called Home Office doesn't seem that bothered about leaving you behind."

Tamara looked away from Emma, her expression hardening when she seemed to come to a decision. "If that _thing_ was part of the Home Office, I don't want to work for them anymore." She told her. "I want magic destroyed. I don't want to be its puppet."

"Yeah, well, it's too late for that." Emma stated. "And if you really don't know anything, then there's no point listening to you anymore." She released her grip on Tamara's collar, and then, just as Tamara stumbled backwards, Emma drew her fist back and punched her in the face. " _That's_ for Henry."

When she turned away from Tamara and saw Regina crying in Mary-Margaret's arms, everything hit her. Henry was _gone_. Something had swooped down and taken him and they had no idea where he was.

"We have to follow him." She muttered, a grim sense of determination settling over her. "We'll figure out where he went, and we'll go get him. No matter how long it takes."

"That thing wasn't even from this realm." Regina told her. "Even if we find out where it went, there's no way to follow it."

"There has to be." Emma insisted. "Can't we use Jefferson's hat? We can find out where Henry is and use that."

"Even if Jefferson's still in this realm, which I _doubt_ ," Regina started, shaking her head at Emma as though she was being stupid. "The hat only allows the same number of people either way. Two of us go to get Henry and two of us have to come back. To bring Henry back, one of us would have to stay behind."

There had to be a way. There _had_ to be. She refused to give up, not the way Regina seemed to be. If Henry had managed to find her, she would be able to find him.

"Emma?" She hadn't expected to hear anyone calling her name, but Neal was running towards her from the other end of the docks, his father on his heels. "Emma? What happened? Why was the shadow here?"

"The shadow?" Emma repeated, surprised that Neal seemed to know what had happened more than anyone else. "How do you-?"

"I saw it in the sky. It looked like it was coming this way and… what happened?" He asked, drawing to a halt once he was in front of her and then fighting to catch his breath. He seemed determined not to look at Tamara, glancing at Greg and at the crying Regina but not at his ex-fiancée. "Where's Henry?"

"It took Henry." She told him, dread filling her at the horror that dawned on his face. "It picked him up and it flew away. Do you know what it was? What it wanted?"

"It's Pan's shadow." Neal answered. "It took me to Neverland a century ago. If it took Henry, that's where he'll be."

"Okay, so how do we go after him?"

"There's no way." Rumplestiltskin stated. "I spent a lifetime trying to cross world to find my son. There's no way in this world without a portal."

"So he's gone forever?" Regina asked. She suddenly seeming more hopeful than she had before. Emma doubted it was Rumplestiltskin's words that had triggered that, but maybe knowing where Henry was was enough to convince Regina that somehow, someway, they could save their son. "I refuse to believe that."

"You shouldn't." Neal told them. "I was in this world when I went to Neverland and there weren't exactly many portals to fall into back in London. We just need the shadow to take us there."

"And how do we do that?" Emma asked. "I don't think the shadow's going to show up and take us to where we want to go, especially if Pan is as bad as I've heard."

"We trick it." Neal decided. "We get some kid to summon the shadow and then we hijack the ride."

"And risk some other child getting taken to Neverland if things go wrong?" Mary-Margaret said dubiously. "We can't do that. It isn't right."

"Well, that's the only way I can think of."

"It might not be the only way." Emma said quietly, swallowing when everyone turned to look at her. "You're not the only one who's been to Neverland before. You're not the only one who'll want to help get Henry back."

"Hook?" Neal asked. "Just because he hid there for centuries doesn't mean he knows how to get there from this realm. I've done it before. I've travelled between this realm and Neverland. Hook never has."

"He'll help." Emma told him. "And even if he doesn't know how to get there, I think a century in Neverland makes him one of the best hopes we have of getting Henry back."

~~~*~~~

The streets of Storybrooke were more crowded than they'd been since the day the curse lifted. People were running through the streets, calling out for friends and family and searching through debris for anyone who'd been wounded.

Emma ignored the several people who tried to stop her, asking loud questions about what had happened and if things had been fixed. She just pushed passed them, forcing her way towards the hospital.

She hoped Killian was still there, but if he'd done what she wanted, if he'd drunk the potion, she doubted he'd have been happy to stay behind at the hospital. If he'd remembered, he'd have wanted to help. He'd have tried to find her.

"Swan!" It was Killian's voice, and she spun around to see him shoving people aside as he limped across the road towards her, still dressed in the borrowed hospital scrubs. "You did it! You saved everyone. Are you alright?"

He was still making his way towards her, and although she'd been frozen at first, seeing him moving towards her and calling her by the nickname he hadn't used in weeks, she couldn't stand and wait for him to reach her.

He took hold of her shoulders when she was close enough, searching her for any injuries, and she let him, taking advantage of his distraction to let her eyes roam over him. He remembered, he had to, if he was calling her 'Swan' and running through town as though he knew where he was going, and the realisation that the potion had worked brought forward a surge of emotion that overwhelmed her.

He was back, he remember and he could help.

"I checked Granny's but Belle could only tell me what was happening, not where you'd gone." He was saying, although she hadn't really been listening for the first few words. "I was going to check the well, but then the tremors stopped and I knew you must have succeeded."

"You remember." She stated quietly. As soon as she spoke, he fell silent, his eyes narrowing and his head tilting to the side as he gazed at her. "You're _you_."

He gave her a soft, tender smile and then raised his hand to brush her stray tears away. "I am."

"You can help me."

"Help you?" He repeated. "I thought you'd saved everyone. Why do you need my help?"

"It's Henry." Emma explained. "He's… Neal said Peter Pan took him. The shadow came and it grabbed him and now he's gone. Neal said it's Pan."

"How does Henry's father know about Peter Pan?" Killian asked, already starting to limp back down Main Street, back towards the docks. He hadn't even needed to say the words, he was just going to help. No questions asked. "Isn't he still in the hospital?"

"Rumplestiltskin must have healed him." Emma answered. "I guess that was why he was there earlier."

"Rumplestiltskin? He said he was there to see his son. He-" Killian stopped moving, realisation dawning on his face. She watched him, uncertain what he was going to say. "Neal is _Baelfire_? He got out of Neverland? He escaped?" She didn't bother with an answer. Instead, she nudged Killian's side gently and then continued down Main Street. "Sorry. Whoever Neal is, it doesn't matter if Henry's in trouble. How can I help?"

"I don't know how to get him back." Emma admitted shakily. "I don't know how to follow him."

"I do." She spun around to stare at him, expecting him to continue with a suggestion they'd already had to discard, but he was just smiling at her. "Everything's going to be alright, Emma. I promise."

He hobbled past her, his hand pressed against his chest as he moved as quickly as he could towards the docks. She followed, and soon they were turning the last corner onto the pier where she'd left the others.

They still seemed to be fighting. Regina was trying to convince David and Mary-Margaret that Neal's idea was worth the risk, but Emma's parents were stubbornly refusing. Killian didn't even bother to interrupt the conversation, limping through the centre of the group and then turning onto the gangway of the Jolly Roger.

Emma accompanied him into his cabin, a slight smile quirking the corner of her mouth when he paused at the sight of the repaired window. It was only a moment's distraction, and he soon crossed the room to the shelves beside the door, his hand hovering in the air just in front of a small safe.

"Bloody hell." He muttered angrily. "Where's my hook?"

"What? Why?" she asked, frowning at him. "It's back at the loft with the rest of your things. Do you need it?"

"I need my hook to unlock the safe." He explained easily, gesturing at the small keyhole in the safe door. "Inside the safe, I have a magic bean. That's how I got to Neverland last time and that's how we can do it now."

She gaped at him. In all the chaos of the last several days, she'd forgotten how he'd whispered his secret to her at Granny's, that he had a way back to the Enchanted Forest. He didn't just know how they might get to Neverland, he could get them there as soon as he had his hook back on his wrist.

Now that he knew what was going on, he seemed to be acting as quickly as he could. He strode back out of the cabin, back on deck, standing at the edge of ship, Emma beside him, and peering down at everyone still standing on the docks.

"There's no need for a debate." He said loudly, his words instantly quieting them. "I can have us in Neverland within the hour. I assume you're all planning on accompanying us."

"Yeah." Neal answered, staring up at the two of them. "We're Henry's family. We all want to find him."

Killian inhaled deeply, looking from Neal to Regina and then to Rumple. His jaw ticked, his eyebrows furrowed, and then he nodded. "Fair enough."

"Alright then." Neal muttered. "Let's go."

"Not yet." Killian commanded. "If we're going to Neverland, we need to be prepared. You know better than most just how dangerous Neverland can be. Mary-Margaret, I need you to fetch my hook from your apartment. Dave, go to the shop and get as much food as you can. Baelfire, you-"

"Why are you in charge?" Neal interrupted. "This has nothing to do with you."

"I'm the Captain." Killian snapped, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the ship's railing. "I give the orders. Emma asked for my help, so I'll give it, but I can't help if you refuse to listen to me."

Neal grimaced, but Killian's words seemed to have subdued him. "What do you want me to do?"

"You know the Jolly Roger better than anyone else here." Killian stated, faltering slightly when Emma decided to place her hand over his. "I need you to pack away all the extension cables and electronic appliances. You can put them in the warehouse on the other side of the docks."

"What about Greg and Tamara?" David asked, glancing over his shoulder at the two in question. "What are we going to do with them?"

"Oh, I know what to do with them." Regina said dangerously. "Don't worry, I won't kill them, but without a Sheriff or a Deputy, they're going to need to be somewhere a bit more secure than the Sheriff's station. I have just the place."

Maybe Emma should have insisted on more details, but after the day she'd had, she didn't really care. One nod at Regina and the mayor was already leading the two prisoners away from the docks, David helping her.

"And what will _you_ be doing, 'Captain'?" Rumplestiltskin asked. "Delegating?"

Killian didn't respond, and Emma followed him as he retreated back to his cabin, leaving the others to get on with what they'd been ordered to do.

He collapsed onto his bed, his leg stretched out in front of him and a pained grimace across his as he gripped at his ribs. "We'll be on the move soon, love." He promised. "I just need a moment's rest."

She stared down at him, sprawled across the bed. "Okay. Stay there."

"Where are you going? There's nothing you need to-"

"I'm going to go back to the hospital." She told him. "And I'm going to get your painkillers."

"You don't need to do that."

"I want to." She muttered. "You're going to back to Neverland for me and you didn't even need to think about it. The least I can do is pick up your prescription."

She bent down and brushed a kiss to his forehead, a soft smile teasing the corner of her lips when she felt his hand tangle in her hair, keeping her lips pressed against his skin for just a few seconds longer.

When she finally threw the glittering bean into the water, the sea fell away, and after joining Killian at the helm, her hand over his on the spoke of the wheel, they followed it into oblivion.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 42**

The third portal Emma had ever travelled through felt different than the others. The first had been rough enough to knock her unconscious upon arrival, the second almost killing her by opening up in Storybrooke's well, but this one seemed worse.

It felt like they were falling through a whirlpool, the Jolly Roger sailing vertically down the tunnel of water, sea crashing down on them from all sides. Most of the ship's passengers were clinging to ropes, or to each other, but Killian was gripping tightly to the helm, trying to keep the steering wheel steady even as it shook and tried to spin out of control.

Another threatening creak ripped through the Jolly Roger. Emma abandoned her position at the front of the ship, gripping at the rails as she forced her way up the deck, towards Killian.

"Need a hand?" She called, as she climbed the stairs up towards him. She didn't know if he heard her through the roaring of the swirling water, but once she was a bit closer, Killian noticed her approach. With his hand gripping one spoke of the wheel tightly, he shuffled so that he could reach out towards her, offering his hook as assistance as she attempted to cross the raised deck.

"What was that, love?" He asked once they were close enough so that he could speak in her ear.

"It's not exactly smooth sailing." She told him. "I figured I could help out."

He smiled at her and moved aside, letting Emma take up position at his right. Their hands met on the central spoke, her hand over his, and then she gripped another spoke with her free hand, trying to hold the wheel steady.

It was hard to keep hold of the wheel. As strong as Emma was, she could feel the pull of the wheel as it tried to turn away from her, and it was a struggle to keep it in place. It didn't help that the portal wasn't straight, the slope of the tunnel growing shallower as the Jolly Roger approached the end of the swirling tunnel.

Killian was trying to steer, trying to tell her what to do, but the sound of rushing water surrounding them was growing louder, too loud for her to hear his softly-spoken instructions as he directed the movements of her hands.

She had no idea what she was doing.

The Jolly Roger lurched forward, and then Emma felt someone take her by the shoulders and move her away from Killian's side. She stumbled, grabbing at the railing nearby, turning to see that it was Neal who had taken her place next to Killian.

"I know how to steer this ship." He yelled, Emma just managing to hear him over the roar of the water. "You should get the others to help you tie things down. Landing's going to be rough."

She only heard a few of the words, but it was clear that Neal was more help than she'd been. Together, they actually seemed to be keeping the ship steady, even as it hurtled towards the dark waters at the end of the portal.

Although she tried to get everything battened down, she only had a few minutes before the Jolly Roger crash-landed, smashing against the surface of Neverland's ocean. Water thudded against the sides of the ship, spilling onto the already damp deck. The Jolly Roger bobbed up and down a couple of times and then it settled down, suddenly completely still.

Killian and Neal soon got the ship moving slowly towards the large silhouettes of land in the distance. Emma stood at the side of the deck, watching them move closer to the islands, focused entirely on their destination instead of the others around them.

Neverland wasn't what she expected. It was swelteringly hot, the sky the same navy as Storybrooke was just before the sun set, tinting everything with a blue light. There was no sun, no moon, just stars and darkness.

"Did you know Hook had a magic bean?" Emma should have expected the question, but Mary-Margaret's query surprised her. "Did you know that we could have gotten home? That we could have-"

"He told me he had a way back." Emma answered, sighing when her parents joined her by the railing. "I didn't know what it was. I didn't want to know and I definitely didn't want _you_ to know."

"You didn't want us to know? Why?"

"Why?" Emma repeated. "Because I was pretty sure that the moment I mentioned a way back to the Enchanted Forest, you'd be taking it."

"And if we _had_ , don't you think things would have been better?" Mary-Margaret asked earnestly. "That we'd be happier?"

"Better?"

"If you'd told us about the magic bean, and if we'd gone home, Hook wouldn't have lost his memories crossing the town line. Tamara wouldn't have been able to hurt August and steal Henry." Mary-Margaret told her. "We'd have never met her."

"Snow." David warned, conspicuously shaking his head at his wife as though that would stop her from talking. "You should stop."

"No, keep going." Emma said quietly. "I want to know if you're actually saying what it sounds like you're saying. Are you _blaming_ me? Are you saying that not wanting to go back to the Enchanted Forest is the reason everything happened?"

"No, she's not."

"Emma, I'm just saying that maybe the Enchanted Forest would have been a better place for everyone." Mary-Margaret stated, reaching out to try and place her hand over Emma's, except Emma pulled her hand back before she could. "Emma, please."

"Do you honestly think the Enchanted Forest would be any less chaotic?" Emma asked disbelievingly. "Are we thinking of the same place? If we had gone to back to the Enchanted Forest, we'd take almost all the craziness of Storybrooke with us but there'd be giant beanstalks and ogres as well. Look, I know you think that the Enchanted Forest is great, and maybe, for you, it is. It isn't for me."

"But maybe it could be."

"No." She answered bluntly. "I grew up on Earth, where there are cars and Netflix and microwaves. I'm not meant to live in the Enchanted Forest. I don't want to leap through a portal and start living like I'm in some sort of medieval reenactment group. I wouldn't know how to and honestly, I don't _want_ to."

Mary-Margaret seemed taken aback. Emma wondered if her mother had even considered what it might be like to go from twenty-eight years with technology to a life without it, and from the look on Mary-Margaret's face, she would guess that she hadn't.

"Okay, I understand." Mary-Margaret said eventually. "You'd need time. It wouldn't be easy for you like it would for us. But that doesn't mean it wouldn't be worth trying. It's where we're all from. It's where _Hook_ 's from. No matter what happens, someone's going to have to adapt."

Emma grimaced. Mary-Margaret didn't understand. The curse had made things easy for them, even if they had lived the same day over and over. They understood the land without magic as well as she did, had been there just as long. As for Killian, he had endured every repeated day, had filled his ship with electrical appliances and gotten used to life in Storybrooke, life in Emma's realm.

He'd told her that he didn't want to go back to the Enchanted Forest if she didn't, and she'd known he meant it.

"No, they're not." Emma said bluntly. "And it's not even worth thinking about anyway. Yeah, Killian had a bean but he doesn't now. We've used it. There's no way back to the Enchanted Forest. And you know, if we're going to talk about things we _could_ have done, then you should know that I think that listening to you was the stupidest thing I've done in a long time."

"What?"

"I didn't grow up in some fairytale land, so I know, better than you two, that good doesn't always win. Good people just get screwed over and are naive enough to believe things will get better. That in the long run, things will work out." Emma told her bitterly. "I should have done what I wanted. I should have taken Henry and Killian and gotten the hell out of Storybrooke. _None_ of this would have happened back in Boston."

"You're right." Mary-Margaret muttered quietly, leaning towards her husband. "Then you'd all be together. Emma, we missed you growing up and it haunts us every day."

"But that's why we're here now." David continued. "We don't want you to have to go through the same thing too, and you _won't_. We're going to get our family back."

"How can you two be so infuriatingly optimistic?" She asked. "Ever since you got your memories back, ever since you remembered that you're Snow White and Prince Charming, things have sucked."

"No." David breathed. "Whatever happened, whether it was having to find our way back to Storybrooke or stopping Cora, it was nothing compared to finding you again."

"But we lost Henry." Emma protested. "And now we're here. In Neverland. And I don't know if I can do this."

"Oh, Emma, of _course_ you-."

"You can't." Emma scowled at the new voice. Whatever doubts she had, they weren't for all the passengers of the Jolly Roger to hear. She'd been speaking to David and Mary-Margaret, not Rumplestiltskin, but he seemed to have no problems with interrupting.

She spun around to look at him, peering at him in disbelief when she saw him dressed in a new outfit, something scaly and sharp and not at all like anything she would see back in Storybrooke. One glance, and she understood why Killian called him the Crocodile.

"Really? A wardrobe change?" Emma asked, noticing Killian and Neal watching them from the helm, rolling her eyes at Rumplestiltskin's actions when she caught Killian's eyes. "Now?"

"I'm going to get Henry. Alone."

"I thought we'd agreed to do this together." It turned out Regina had been listening too, joining them at the side of the ship. "Why are you leaving?"

"We never agreed that." Rumplestiltskin told her. "We never discussed anything further than using the Jolly Roger to get to this land. I'm leaving to find my grandson, because I know that _you_ and Miss Swan won't be able to."

"And why do you think that?" Emma asked.

"Because you don't believe." Rumplestiltskin answered simply. "Not in your parents. Not in magic. Not even in yourself."

"I slayed a dragon." Emma retorted. "I believe."

"Only what you've seen." Rumplestiltskin said with a chilling giggle. "When have you ever taken a leap of faith? You know, the kind where there's absolutely no proof? I may not have known you long, Miss Swan, but even I can see that you're just a bail bondsperson looking for evidence. Well, dearie, that's not going to work here."

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get my son back."

"It's a shame you need someone to tell you what that is." Rumplestiltskin told her gleefully. "You can't do this alone. I wrote you into the curse as the saviour. You've done that. You're _nothing_ now. You need your _boyfriend_ and my son to even have a chance of success. Sorry, dearie, our foe is too fearsome for hand-holding."

"Wait, what are you doing?" The pain Rumplestiltskin's words had brought her must have shown on her face, because Killian looked concerned and Neal was shouting at them as he rushed down the stairs, two at a time, from the helm. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I'm going to save your son." Rumplestiltskin told him, his hand gripping his cane tightly. "My grandson."

"So do it with us." Neal insisted. "Stay here and help. I know this place better than you. I know _Pan_ better than you and your magic isn't going to fix things. It never does."

"I'm sorry, Bae." Rumplestiltskin said. "But you're wrong."

He let go of his cane. By the time it hit the floor, he was gone.

"Crap." Neal hissed, bending down to pick up his father's cane. "Look, Ems, whatever he said, it's all-"

"Shutup." Emma muttered. "I don't want to hear it. I just… God, I need a drink."

~~~*~~~

Emma retreated below deck, to Killian's cabin. It almost looked just as she'd left it after staying the night a few days before, the bed unmade but all windows replaced, instead of boarded up. She didn't even bother to get a drink, crossing the room and collapsing onto the bed.

She was _so_ tired, and Rumplestiltskin's words hadn't helped. It was hard to stay awake and determined when he'd managed to find exactly the right words to dishearten her. He had a point - she hadn't believed in the curse until Henry was close to death, hadn't been able to deal with anything magical unless it was right in front of her and she _had_ to.

And if she was only a saviour because Rumplestiltskin had written her into the curse, then he was right. She'd done her job, she'd broken the curse, and now she wasn't anything.

Rumplestiltskin had stopped Cora. Emma had helped stop the trigger, but Regina had been the one keeping destruction at bay for hours. And the only reason Tamara and Greg were in custody was because they hadn't understood who they were working for.

She rolled onto her side, looking blankly at the opposite wall. What if she couldn't save Henry? What if Rumplestiltskin was right?

There was a knock on the cabin door, and even though she didn't respond, soon the wooden door was creaking open. She glanced towards it, unsurprised to see it was Killian limping towards her. She didn't speak, not even when he reached the bed and sat on the edge, in the space just next to her bent knees.

"I decided to let Baelfire steer for a while." He explained unnecessarily, not noticing when she reached out slowly and wrapped her fingers around his hook. "I understand that conversations with the Crocodile can be… trying."

"I think he's right." She admitted quietly, unable to meet his eyes when he turned to look at her. "About Neverland. About me. Are things meant to be this hard?"

Killian sighed. "Swan, don't listen to him. Yes, you're exhausted. After all you told me had happened over the last few weeks, anyone would be, and I'm sure I didn't even understand everything you were dealing with."

"Last week was… I would say crazy, but I keep having to redefine that word." Emma muttered. "I'd have liked a few more days to get my head around the whole Neal is Baelfire thing, but Storybrooke never lets you have time to process anything."

"It was definitely an unexpected revelation." He agreed. "I will admit that I was relieved to discover he escaped from Neverland, although it's hard to see him as the boy he used to be when I know what he's done to you."

"You know, Baelfire being Neal means that _Milah_ is Henry's grandmother." Emma pointed out. "What does that make you? His step-grandfather?"

"We were never married." Killian said after a moment, as though he'd needed time to think about what she'd said, what Neal's true identity really meant. "If we dwell on all the complications of everyone's family trees, we'll all end up confused and unhappy. Does it bother you?"

"Of all the things that have happened since the curse broke, finding out that you have another reason to care for Henry is the least of my problems."

He smiled softly, the expression growing more tender when he looked down and seemed to finally notice the way she was holding onto his hook. "What really happened this week, Emma? With August and with Cora?"

"Everything with Cora seemed to happen so fast." Emma told him. "You know, I got back from New York, and then the next day, she'd taken Lacey hostage and Rumplestiltskin had killed her."

"Lacey?" He repeated. "Is Belle alright?"

"Yeah. I mean, watching Rumplestiltskin murder someone in front of her seemed to be the last straw, because _that_ looks like it's over, but I think she's okay." Emma assured him. "She's definitely doing better than August."

"You told me he was gone." Killian prompted, an apologetic tone to his voice. "I'm sorry. Whatever I thought of him, I know he was important to you."

"Tamara killed him. Or intended to, anyway." Emma said quietly. "He was in my arms and then the Blue Fairy waved her wand and he was Pinocchio again. And I just wanted to talk to you about it. It had hurt when he was dying, but it was worse when he was a child because then it felt like he'd been erased. Because he's going to grow up in Storybrooke, with Marco, and he won't be August again. Not even when he's grown up. And I wanted you to tell me that it made sense for me to feel that way, but you-"

"I couldn't have understood." Killian finished. "But, Swan, I want you to know that I saw how hard it was for you. I saw how you were struggling and I'm so sorry I couldn't have been there for you. I won't let that happen again."

"You _were_ there for me." Emma admitted. "Maybe you didn't know everything that was going on, but you knew what to say. You were the one who… I don't think I could do this without you. Rumplestiltskin was right. I won't succeed without you with me."

"He wasn't right." Killian declared, adjusting his position so that instead of facing the opposite wall, his torso was pointed towards Emma, his stare locked on her. "You don't need me. You're strong. You'd have found a way to save Henry even if I wasn't around to help you."

"I _couldn't_." She protested. "I was without you for a week and I fell apart."

"You haven't slept in days. Weeks." He pointed out. "No one could be expected to-"

"You _saw_ me. Couldn't you…" He didn't get it. How could he even doubt that losing him the way she had hadn't been part of the reason her week had been so terrible? "Don't you know how much you mean to me?"

She hadn't thought it was possible, but his expression softened even more. It was back, whatever he'd lost along with his memories, whatever had been missing from his eyes, his gaze burning through her, and she didn't understand why but it was that which broke her. Her shoulders shook, her back curving in an attempt to curl up even smaller and then she cried.

"Swan… Oh, sweetheart, come here." She felt him shift, felt him twist his hook gently out of her grip, and then his arms were around her, his hand cradling the back of her head and holding her to his shoulder as she sobbed.

He murmured things into her hair, comforting sounds that she wasn't really listening to, didn't _need_ to listen to. It was enough to just be held by him, to feel, only for a moment, that everything would finally be okay. That they'd find Henry and get back to Storybrooke and finally get to _relax_.

She clung to him, her cries quieting as he held her tighter, pressed light kisses to the crown of her head. "When we're back home, we'll take a vacation." She whispered into his jacket, even though she knew they couldn't. That they could never leave Storybrooke. "Maybe the Caribbean. You'd like it there. Other pirates seem to. We'll go sailing and we'll sunbathe and everything won't hurt anymore."

"Sounds wonderful." He muttered, following his words up with one more kiss to her hair.

For a moment, she considered telling him exactly what she felt, of nuzzling closer and breathing the words. _I love you_. Except she couldn't do that. He was back, he was himself again, and she didn't want anything to change. Not again.

"You and Henry, you're the only ones that stayed the same when the curse broke." She said instead, pulling back from Killian slightly so that she could look at him. His hand ran across her back, across her shoulders, as the embrace loosened and then his hand was on her cheek, brushing away the few tears that were still falling. She exhaled shakily, turning her cheek into his caress. "I hadn't realised how much that meant. I hadn't realised how much I'd miss you."

"I'm sorry." He murmured. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I walked into a trap. I didn't want to wake you that night, not when you were finally sleeping. But I'm back now, and everything's going to be alright. I'll make sure of it."

"But Rumplestiltskin-"

"Is wrong." Killian promised. "Whatever he said, he's never been to Neverland. You have me. You have Bae. We both spent centuries here. We know this land and its dangers and I _know_ you can do this. We're going to find Henry and then we're going to get home."

And he looked so sure, so _certain_ , that she believed him.

She kissed him then, brushing her lips over his, her hand rising to bury itself in his hair and hold him to her, hold him closer. The kiss stayed soft, slow, as though they were trying to breathe each other in. If their kiss in the hospital had been a much-needed collision, this was just _them_ , finally together.

When it ended, she nuzzled close, tucking her head under his chin and holding him again, his embrace warm and solid, and she stayed there, in his arms, until the ship shook.

~~~*~~~

"What the hell were you two doing?" Regina shouted when Emma and Killian hurried up from below deck. "I don't know what you were thinking leaving Daddy Issues over there steering the ship, but he's doing a terrible job."

The ship rocked again, and Killian cursed. "Never mind what we were doing." He snapped, shoving Regina aside and rushing up to the helm, taking the steps two at a time. "If this is what I _know_ it is, we don't have time for questions. Prepare for attack!"

"Be more specific." Regina ordered.

"If you've got a weapon, then grab it!" Killian yelled down at them. Emma exchanged an alarmed look with Regina and then she dashed up the stairs after the pirate. He was pushing Neal away from the helm so that he could take the wheel, appearing to ignore Neal's protests that he could manage without Killian's help. "I know you can, Bae, but I need you to make sure everyone's ready to fight. When you've done that, go check the cabinet in the crew's quarters."

"Don't you need me to fight too?" Neal asked. "I _can_ fight, you know?"

"Yes, and your sword is in the cabinet." Killian told him.

"My-?"

There was a loud screeching nearby, and Neal seemed to decide that there wasn't time for whatever he wanted to say. He darted past Emma, jumping down the last few stairs, and as he went to explain what was happening to the other passengers, Emma joined Killian at the wheel.

"What's out there?" She asked. "A shark? A whale?"

Killian glanced at her and shook his head. "Worse. Mermaids."

There was another shrill wail, another thump that rocked the ship. "Mermaids?" She repeated, wishing she was more surprised by Killian's answer. As crazy as it was that it was mermaids attacking them, she seemed to be getting used to hearing about things she used to believe didn't exist. "Mermaids?"

"Yes, and they're quite unpleasant."

So not like the mermaids she knew from Disney movies, then. She left Killian's side to go and peer over the ship's railing, her eyes widening when she saw dozens of mermaids charging at the side of the ship, their tails bright beneath the water, even without any moonlight to illuminate them.

"How many are there?" She breathed, horrified by the number of them. "Killian, there has to be at least fifty of them."

"More than we want to face." Killian muttered absently, looking more concerned by where Emma was standing than the attack of the mermaids. "Swan, can you get away from the side? I'd rather not risk anyone falling into the ocean and getting struck with the curse of the mermaids, but especially not you."

She definitely didn't want to discover what the curse of the mermaids involved so she backed away from the railing, returning to Killian's side. "What are we going to do?"

"Try to outrun them."

"I will not be capsized by fish!" David's yell was loud enough to be heard from the other end of the ship, and Emma stared over at him, watching as her father ran across the deck, past Killian and Emma, towards one of the swivel guns mounted at the stern.

Emma helped him load the small cannon, stepping aside as he started to aim it at the creatures swimming below them.

She left Killian controlling the ship, David busy with the cannon behind him, and ran down from the raised deck to assist Mary-Margaret, passing Neal as he returned back up to the helm. Emma expected Mary-Margaret to be using her arrows to warn away the mermaids, but instead of attacking, Mary-Margaret seemed to be searching the deck for something.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, her eyes widening when Mary-Margaret took hold of her arm and dragged her over to a heavy net.

Mary-Margaret pressed a corner of the net into Emma's hand. "Fishing."

She didn't need any more of an explanation, and the two of them heaved the net over the side of the ship, Emma wrapping the rope three times around her hand so she could keep a hold of it. It was that moment that the cannon fired, splashing into the water and sending a few mermaids scattering in all directions.

It hadn't scared enough of them away, but it _had_ scared one of them into the net.

Emma's grip tightened on the rope, straining to keep the mermaid trapped, as Mary-Margaret called out that they'd managed to catch one.

"One? There are dozens of them." Regina pointed out, appearing at Mary-Margaret's shoulder and peering over into the water. "Move out of the way. I've had enough of this."

She nudged Mary-Margaret aside, although Mary-Margaret couldn't move too far with the net still held in her hand, but Regina held her hand out and flexed her fingers, a ball of fire appearing only inches above her palm.

Emma watched as the mayor threw the flame towards the mermaid, fire rippling across the surface of the water as it landed and making the mermaids shriek and writhe, the entire group of them fleeing when Regina aimed a couple more fireballs their way.

"There." Regina stated smugly. "They're gone."

"Not all of them." Mary-Margaret told her, stumbling forward along with Emma as the mermaid in the net strained to get away. "We've still got one trapped."

Regina leant over the side, raising an eyebrow when she saw the squirming mermaid pressed against the side of the ship. One flick of her hand and then Emma wasn't holding anything and the mermaid, still wrapped in the net, appeared in a puff of smoke in the centre of the deck.

"Get that thing off my ship!" Killian sounded furious, and Emma glanced over at him to see rage clear on his face. "Put it back."

"No." Regina snapped back at him. "Now we have a hostage."

"You don't _want_ a mermaid as a hostage." Neal had joined them, pointing his sword towards the mermaid as though she was going to somehow jump up and attack them. "You're not going to get anything from her. All mermaids do is lie."

"If Killian doesn't want her on his ship, then maybe we should listen." Emma pointed out. "He knows mermaids better than we do, and after they just tried to kill us, I think we'd all prefer it if we didn't keep one around."

"Exactly." Regina snapped. "They did just try to kill us. Don't you think we should try and understand why?"

"How?" Mary-Margaret asked. "By torturing her?"

"If we need to, sure."

Mary-Margaret didn't get a chance to protest, although she was clearly preparing to, because the mermaid raised a conch shell to her lips and blew, a loud, deep sound vibrating through the air around them.

"Crap," Neal muttered. "That's not good."

"Why?" Emma asked him. "What the hell did she do?"

A thunderclap shot through the air, the navy sky darkening as black clouds rolled across it. "I'm guessing that." Neal grumbled. "Do what Hook said. Get her off the ship before we have even more to deal with."

"No. Not until she tells us what they wanted." Regina snarled. "Or we make her tell us."

"But if they're liars, like Neal said, what's the point?" Emma pointed out. "We can't trust anything she might say."

"Maybe they're just scared of Pan." Mary-Margaret suggested. "If we let her go, maybe they'll be on our side."

"They won't." Neal declared. "But at least if we let her go, the mermaids might not come back and make things worse."

"Or they'll just come right back to kill us anyway." Regina suggested, although Neal shook his head in disagreement.

"I don't need my friends to kill you." The mermaid spat, a cruel smirk on her face. "You'll kill yourselves. Now let me go."

There was another roar of thunder, followed a few seconds afterwards by a fork of lightning ripping through the sky, the ocean suddenly growing wilder, water splashing against the sides and onto the deck as Killian tried to keep the Jolly Roger steady.

"Keep her here." Killian yelled down suddenly. Emma turned to see him and David wrestling with the ship's wheel, trying to keep it from spinning out of control. "This storm, she called it. If you let her go, she'll swim off and leave us all to die. If she's here, at least we have leverage. I'll turn the Jolly Roger around and get us out of here. I've outrun many a storm."

Emma wasn't entirely sure if she agreed with Killian's decision to keep the mermaid onboard, but with the way the sea was getting rougher, the storm moving closer with each second, it didn't look like they had any other choice. If the waves got any bigger, Emma didn't know how the Jolly Roger would cope.

"Come on, Dark One Junior, use that sword and filet the bitch." Regina ordered, gesturing towards the mermaid. "Get her to make it stop."

"If you're that eager to make her stop, do it yourself." Neal snapped. "I'm not doing it."

"Neal's right." Mary-Margaret claimed. "Not about you doing it yourself, but about not doing it. We're _not_ killers."

"Yes, you are." The mermaid hissed. "And you've brought this death upon yourselves."

"This is why we should free her!"

"That feel-good nonsense, Snow, might play in the Enchanted Forest but this is Neverland." Regina snarled. She shoved Neal aside, stalking towards the mermaid, her dangerous approach ruined when the Jolly Roger shook, an alarming creak coming from the side of the ship. "Now, may I resume _killing_ her?"

"No!" Mary-Margaret yelled. "You kill her and her kind have a personal vendetta against us."

"Look, the Queen is right." Killian called down, shaking his head resignedly when Emma stared up at him in shock. "They've _already_ tried killing us. At least if we kill her, there's a chance this storm will end and we'll reach the island."

Regina smirked at Killian's words, taking a few more steps towards the mermaid as another fireball appeared in her palm.

"No, stop!" Emma cried out. Whatever was going on, she didn't want the mermaid killed in the hope that it would stop the storm, not when they didn't know if it would work. "We need to think this through. We can't just set her on fire and hope the storm stops. Our first plan can't be _murder_."

"Fine." Regina snapped, and then, with another wave of her hand, the mermaid stiffened and turned to wood. "There. That should stop the storm."

"What did you do?" Emma asked furiously. " _Why_ did you do that?"

Regina wasn't listening. Her wide-eyed, horrified gaze was locked on something over Emma's shoulder. "No." she breathed. "I thought-"

"What?" Emma asked urgently, turning round to see what Regina was staring at. "Son of a bitch!"

The Jolly Roger was moving straight towards a huge wave, a swell of water taller than any of the building's in Storybrooke, and although Emma thought the best move would be to get the hell out of the way, Killian seemed to be keeping on course.

The ship's deck was getting more and more vertical as they moved closer to the wave, and Emma staggered down the deck towards Killian. Even with the wheel fighting against him, he offered his hook towards her when she approached, helping her reach him.

"I thought you said you could outrun a storm!" Emma cried, gripping more tightly to the spoke of the wheel as the ship lurched to the side. "This looks more like you're trying to go right into it."

"This isn't a storm." Killian said through gritted teeth. "It's bloody damnation. Now, hold on tight."

She gripped onto the ships wheel, her knuckles white, as the ship climbed higher and higher, rain lashing against her face. The storm seemed to be getting worse, the wind too loud to hear anything further than a few feet away and the rain too heavy to see anything clearly.

It looked like Mary-Margaret and Regina were discussing something, most likely what Regina had decided to do to the mermaid. Whatever it was, it was heated enough for Neal to clamber down the deck towards them.

"You should get down there." He shouted to David. "I can't see that ending well."

As though Mary-Margaret wanted to prove Neal right, she slapped Regina across the face. It looked like Regina was laughing in response, but even from a distance, Emma could see fury in the mayor's expression, and she was glad when David started to climb back towards his wife.

Her father had only just reached the fighting women when the Jolly Roger reached the crest of the wave. The bow of the ship jutted out into the air until the back reached the highest point of the wave, and then the whole ship slammed down onto the water again, another threatening groan ripping through the timbers as water crashed onto the deck.

"I thought you knew what you were doing." Neal spat, brushing away some wet hair that was plastered to his forehead. "I thought you were going to _outrun_ the storm. At this rate, we're going to sink before Emma and I even managed to get to the same island our son's on."

Killian didn't reply, too busy focusing on keeping the ship moving.

"Not going to say anything?" Neal prompted. "If this ship goes down, what are you going to do? How are you going to help?"

"Neal." Emma snapped. "Come on, this isn't the time for this. He'll get us to Henry, just let him concentrate."

"Will he? Because he wasn't much help last week." Neal stated, rounding back on Killian. Emma rolled her eyes. No matter how unpleasant Neal's day had been, and it had been worse than most, she'd have preferred it if everyone stopped letting the stress of the storm anger them. "Look, I know you're still the same man you used to be. I don't know what's in this for you, but I know the only reason you do anything is because it benefits _you_."

"Careful, Bae." Killian warned. "You don't know me."

"I know you can't be trusted." Neal muttered.

Emma grimaced, seeing the second Killian realised what Neal had said. His expression darkened, his hold on the wheel loosening as he turned to look at the other man. "Me?" He asked angrily. "I'm not the one who placed my trust in the wrong person."

"Shut up!" Neal shouted, slamming his hand down against the hub of the wheel. "I loved… I didn't… You weren't there! You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I don't want to fight you." Killian protested. "As Emma said, this is hardly the time."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have given me to the Lost Boys." Neal yelled. "Maybe you shouldn't be with Emma. Maybe you shouldn't have run off with my mother and gotten her _killed_."

Emma winced at Neal's words. He knew just what to say to anger Killian, his provoking words causing Killian's lip to curl and his eyes to darken as he stepped away from the helm and towards Neal. "It wasn't solely my decision. Milah chose to travel with me because your father drove her away."

"But why _you_?"

There was another fork of lightning just as Neal shouted. This time, it was close enough for Emma to feel it, the air humming around her and her skin tingling. The crack when it hit the ocean diverted Killian's attention away from Neal, although Neal seemed eager to keep arguing.

"Bae, stop." Killian snarled, once again holding tightly to the helm. "You're angry about your fiancée, not about me. Can you help get us out of this chaos instead of yelling?"

"It's Neal!" He roared, charging past Emma and throwing a punch towards Killian, another rumble of thunder vibrating through the air. He caught him in the jaw, sending Killian stumbling back from the helm.

"Hey!" Emma cried, rushing across the damp, slippery deck to attempt to hold Neal back. "Stop it!"

"And she _wasn't_ my fiancée." He continued, still wrestling with Killian. Killian wasn't fighting back, just trying to defend himself. "Not really. Not to her. She _never_ loved me." His voice broke then, his shouts quieting. "She told me that."

The fight didn't seem to be ending, although it looked like Neal's attacks were more half-hearted than they'd been before. Emma still wanted to stop them, mainly because, as weak as Neal's punches looked, Killian was injured enough.

She was trying to hold Neal back when she realised the lightning and thunder came in time with their fights, in time with the yells and punches of Neal and Killian and Snow and Regina, who were still trying to get at each other despite David standing between them.

It wasn't the mermaid trapping them in the storm. They were doing it to themselves.

She tried to let everyone know, attempting to shout loud enough to be heard over the roar of the rain, but no one could hear her. They weren't even looking her way, and she was growing desperate by the time she decided to clamber up onto the railing. Emma gripped onto a part of the rigging to keep her balance, the wooden railing slick with water.

"If we don't stop fighting, we're all going to die!" She yelled. "It's us. We're causing the storm. Stop it! You have to listen to me."

They hadn't even noticed where she was standing, and when Regina lunged at Mary-Margaret, one more branch of lightning flashed only a few feet away, sending the ship rocking furiously from side to side. Emma stumbled, unable to stay steady on the soaked railing, and when the rigging cracked and broke, she shrieked as she fell backwards.

Her back ached when she hit the water, and then everything went black.

~~~*~~~

She came back to herself with a cough, her chest aching as she jerked forward and struggled to catch her breath. It took a few moments for her to see what was going on, the edges of her vision dark and blurred. Even in the seconds she couldn't see, she could feel someone's hand gripping hers tightly, someone else holding her to their chest, and then she blinked and everything was clear.

It was Killian holding her, she could tell that much from the smell of his jacket, his hand cupping the back of her head and cradling her so that her forehead was pressed against his shoulder. When she finally felt like her chest had loosened and each breath didn't hurt, she drew back slightly from his embrace.

The first thing she saw over his shoulder was David, He was the one holding her hand, his skin cold and his clothes soaked through, hair plastered to his forehead. He smiled when he noticed her looking at him, his grip tightening around her fingers.

Emma glanced up at Killian, meeting his gaze as soon as looked up. He must have been watching at her the whole time, and she wondered if it had been with the same expression he was currently wearing. She'd never seen him look at her like that before, wide-eyed and panicked, and she wriggled her free arm out of his embrace so that she could cup his cheek in her hand.

"I'm going to be okay." She murmured hoarsely. He said nothing. Instead, his embrace tightened, pulling Emma close and nuzzling his head into her damp hair. She thought she heard a muffled sob, but she wasn't sure. It was too quiet. "I didn't mean it to be that dramatic. I just wanted you all to stop fighting."

This time, the sound he made was definitely a laugh. It was only a short chuckle, one he punctuated with a kiss to her temple, but at least he didn't seem to be crying.

"What happened?" She asked, peering over Killian's shoulder again to ask David. "I don't remember."

"You fell." It was Mary-Margaret who answered. Emma hadn't noticed her until then, too focused on Killian, but she was kneeling beside David and watching Emma warily, as though she was about to start coughing again. "The rigging snapped and it… We couldn't see you in the water and then, well, Hook tried to go after you but David said it would better if he… He found you and then Neal and Hook used a pulley to get you both back on board."

"Thanks." She breathed, and, this time, it was her who squeezed her father's hand. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me." David told her. "I _had_ to jump after you. I'm not going to lose you again."

All she could do was send him a shaky smile, suddenly too overwhelmed to speak. They _could_ have lost her. She'd slipped and fallen, crashed into the ocean below, and what if they hadn't spotted her? What if they hadn't been able to save her?

She buried her head once again in Killian's shoulder, gasping for breath again and shivering in his arms. He stopped cradling her head, starting to rub his hand up and down her arm. "Come on, love." He muttered in her ear. "You need to get warm."

"No, no." She protested. "I'll be fine. It's hot here and it's not raining anymore."

"We're heading for shore." Killian stated. "All there is to do on deck is wait for us to arrive. You may as well do that somewhere warmer, with towels."

"He's right, Emma." Mary-Margaret insisted. "Besides, you don't want to explore Neverland with a cold."

She didn't think it was necessary, but if it would stop Killian looking so worried, she'd go and dry off.

David stood up first and then, after Killian had released her from his embrace, he helped her up. Emma felt slightly more unsteady than usual, and she leant against her father as Killian struggled to his feet. She hadn't noticed that he'd been on his knees until she saw his attempt to stand up, a pained grimace on his face as he straightened his legs, his injured knee shaking underneath his weight.

Not that Killian seemed to care. He limped over to her, and once he was at her side, Emma moved away from David and let him walk her over to the door leading below deck, his hand resting at the small of her back.

~~~*~~~

Killian hadn't joined her in his cabin, insisting that he should be up on deck and helping Neal steer them to shore, but after she'd wrung out her hair and squeezed as much water as she could out of her damp clothing, she could hear him shouting in the corridor.

She couldn't make out what he was saying, not until she pressed her ear to the door.

"It's hardly a _favour_ , Regina." He shouted. "I can't lead you through Neverland like this."

"Don't pretend this is about Neverland." Regina answered, her words slightly muffled through the wood of the door. "This is about Emma. She fell, you couldn't go after her and you're expecting me to click my fingers and make it all better."

"I've seen it done before." Killian protested. "I _know_ you've done it before."

"No." Regina said bluntly. "Sorry, Captain Clumsy, but I can't. I don't have enough magic right now. Whatever magic I had recovered since stopping the trigger was used to drive the mermaids away."

It sounded like Regina was walking away, and soon it seemed like only Killian was left in the hallway. Emma stepped out of his cabin when she heard another dull thump, shaking her head in disbelief when she saw that Killian had kicked the wall in frustration.

"You okay?" She asked, sending him a sheepish smile when he turned to look at her. "How's your leg?"

Killian scowled, and then he took her gently by the arm and led her back into his cabin, closing the door behind them. He limped over to the bed, sitting down on it and stretching his leg out in front of him, a relieved sigh falling from his lips.

"Swan, I'm fine. There's no need to worry about me." He assured her, although Emma wasn't comforted by the grimace that accompanied his words. "How about you? You don't seem to be shivering anymore."

"Well, I'm less waterlogged so the cold isn't much of a problem anymore." She told him. "Neverland's a lot hotter than I was expecting. You're the one who's just been yelling and beating up your ship. What's going on?"

She wandered over to stand between his legs, staring down at him and waiting for him to say something. He sighed again, and then he took her hand in his, finally looking up to meet her gaze.

"When Rumplestiltskin pushed me across the town line, he said that I'd understand how it felt to lose everything." He started. "He was blaming me for Belle's distance, for stealing Milah, and I suppose he wanted to punish me."

"What?"

"When I remembered, I thought he meant forgetting you." Killian told her, his thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. "I think I was wrong. It was this."

"This?" Emma asked. "What do you mean?"

"You almost drowned, Emma, and I couldn't go after you." He stated quietly. "Not without endangering you more. When I forgot you, I didn't _know_ what I'd lost, but now, when you could have died, I couldn't do anything. I _can't_ do what you need, and that's-"

"Maybe I can heal you."

She hadn't thought of it until she saw how miserable he was, might have never thought of it if she hadn't just heard it was possible. He looked more exhausted than he ever had in the hospital, and she hadn't realised how much lighter he looked without his memories, but suddenly he looked like everything was so much harder.

If she could do anything to help, she had to do it.

"What?"

"I'm not sure it'll work." Emma admitted quickly, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "I mean, I've never done it before. But I have magic. I used it to stop the trigger and I _felt_ how powerful it could be. If I can use it to heal you, then that's what I want to do."

"Swan, you don't have to." Killian muttered. "Regina said the trigger had drained her power. I can't ask you to do that for me when you used your magic for that too."

"I only helped for a few minutes." Emma protested. "I can try. Honestly, Killian, if I'd known I might be able to do this, I would have done it days ago. Unless you don't want me to. Which I'd understand, because it's not something I've done before."

"I have no doubt you can do it." Killian told her. "I just didn't want you to waste your magic on me."

Emma shook her head in exasperation, her expression softening into a fond smile when Killian looked away from her. "It would never be a waste."

He smiled softly and nodded at her, and the belief in his gaze made her swallow nervously. What if things went wrong? What if she made everything worse?

"Don't worry, Swan." He murmured. "You can do this."

She gave him an anxious smile and then she drew her hand out of his, both her hands hovering at her sides. She closed her eyes, like she had back in the Storybrooke mines, and tried to summon the same warmth she'd felt then.

She tried to picture exactly what she wanted to do, tried to imagine Killian's bruises fading away and his pain vanishing, but it was only when she envisioned the way he had looked at her only seconds before, his blue eyes dark and sad, mouth drawn and down-turned, that she felt her magic again.

Emma opened her eyes and reached out, brushing Killian's leather jacket off his shoulders, and then she ran her hands across his chest, trying to imagine his ribs healing beneath her hands. Her eyes widened in surprise when a soft white light started to glow from her palm, and she raised her eyes to meet Killian's awed gaze.

"Swan, that's…" He took a deep breath, his chest rising underneath her hands. "You're incredible."

She beamed at him, and then bent slightly to wave her hand over his knee, the same white glow pulsing for a moment. Then Killian took her hand in his and the light faded away, the magic boiling through her cooling into a warmth that she felt throughout her entire being.

"How do you feel?" She asked breathlessly, watching as he flexed his leg and stretched his arms. "Tell me the truth."

"Like I was hit by a car several weeks ago." He answered honestly. "My knee still feels a bit tight but I could rescue a man overboard should the need arise."

He grinned at her and all Emma could do was laugh, thrilled by what she'd managed to do. "And Rumplestiltskin said I didn't believe." She joked, her laughter increasing when Killian looked confused. "But now you're better and he's an idiot."

"I'm better enough to help you." He breathed, and then he grabbed her hand, tugging her towards him and chuckling when she moved eagerly towards him, clambering into his lap and pressing her lips to his.

He responded instantly, groaning into her mouth when she clung closer, her hands cupping his face and holding his lips to hers. She felt his hand slide underneath her damp top, his skin warm against her own, and she had to be closer, had to feel more of him.

There was nothing to do on deck and Neal could steer them to shore. They had time.

As though Killian had thought the exact same thing, she felt him inching her top up her back, and she drew back from the kiss just far enough so that he could tug it over her head and toss it somewhere in the cabin.

He kissed her again, a quick, hard kiss and then he was reclining back onto the bed, pulling her down with him and then rolling them so she was on her back, Killian pressing her down into the mattress. She giggled at his enthusiasm, squealing when he started to rain kisses across her face, to everywhere he could reach.

They kissed one more time, through wide smiles, and then Killian quirked an eyebrow and started pressing kisses down her neck, her chest, her giggles fading into gasps and moans as he moved further down her body.

It felt like magic. She could think that now, she'd felt magic rising through her and Killian's touch was the same, made her feel just as warm and happy and powerful.

He kissed lower, chuckling into her skin when she reached down and threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him against her, her other hand clutching the blanket at her side as his fingers curled around the top of her leggings.

He was barely touching her and she was already so close to falling apart.

It felt like she'd been waiting forever, although it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, when he started to draw her leggings down, following the fabric with more kisses. And then, instead of feeling what she wanted to, she felt the ship shudder underneath her and stop.

Killian paused his ministrations, his head falling forward to rest against her hip as he chuckled breathlessly. "And here we are."

"Crap… I don't want you to..." She panted, her grip on his hair loosening. If they had reached land, they were nearer Henry. She couldn't justify wasting any more time, no matter how wonderful it felt. "We have to stop."

She took in a few more deep breaths, and then reluctantly nudged him aside. She tugged her leggings back in place and then sat at the side of the bed, searching for her top. It wasn't too hard to find, hanging from one of the oil lamps on the wall, and she was soon pulling the damp top over her head.

"You ready?" She asked, hoping that she wasn't as flushed as she felt.

"Give me a few more minutes." He told her, shaking his head bemusedly when she smirked at him. "Make sure the others have weapons, foods and blankets and I'll meet you on deck when I'm able."

~~~*~~~

"We don't have to do it this way." Regina insisted as the group traipsed onto the nearest beach. "I can fix the Jolly Roger. My magic is powerful enough. If you think it's better to sail further in, we can do that."

"Your magic wasn't powerful enough before." Killian reminded her pointedly. "Was the last half hour enough for you to recover?"

"Well, it seemed like it was enough time for you." Regina snapped, gesturing at how Killian's walk was no longer uneven and slow. "You're the one who thought we should be stealthy. We can still execute that plan."

"A sneak attack?" Neal asked. Emma hadn't realised he had even been listening, as he had looked too intent on examining the old sword Killian had given him earlier. "Come on. You know that's not going to work. Pan knows we're here. There's not much that goes on in this place that he _doesn't_ know about."

"Well, if that's right, then it's time we stop running." Emma decided. "We have to fight. We have to get Henry. So save your magic, Regina. We'll need it later. What we need is to believe. Rumplestiltskin said this place was run on belief and he was right, but we've too busy yelling and punching each other to do that." She looked over at Killian, a soft smile dancing across her lips at how he was holding himself, straighter than he had in weeks. "If we believe, we can do this. But not in magic. In each other."

"You want to be friends?" Regina questioned, one eyebrow raised and a slight sneer on her lips. "After everything we've been through?"

"No, I don't." Emma answered. She couldn't say otherwise, not when barely twelve hours earlier, the woman had been planning to destroy thousands of lives, although after Regina's actions in the mine's, her words were less angry than they could have been. "But we don't _need_ to be friends. We just need to know that if we don't work together, we won't get Henry back, and I believe that's something _none_ of us want. So help me get my son back or get out of the way."

She didn't wait to see Regina's reaction, turning to stride into the jungles of Neverland the moment she finished speaking. She could hear the others trudging along behind her, only glancing back when she felt Killian's hand take hers.

And, with a pirate, a villain, a Lost Boy and two heroes at her side, Emma truly believed they'd get Henry back.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Although Emma had led everyone away from the beach, Killian soon took charge. He seemed to have a destination in mind and, with Neal taking up space at Emma's other side, the two ex-inhabitants guided the others deeper into the wilderness.

"Do you even know where we're going?" Regina grumbled. Emma glanced over her shoulder to see the other woman fighting to brush thick leaves and heavy branches aside. "Or are we hoping that if we walk for long enough, we'll just happen across Henry?"

"Wandering aimlessly in Neverland isn't something I would recommend." Killian told her. "I'm taking us-"

"To the ridge, right?" Neal interrupted, nodding his head when Killian agreed. "Up there we should get a good view of the place and figure out where we can go next."

"Exactly."

Regina let out a short, bitter laugh. "So what does that mean? That neither of you know where Pan is?"

"Pan doesn't hang around." Neal told her. "Just because I know where Pan was the last time I was here doesn't mean his camp's stayed there for the last thirty-five years."

The mayor scowled, her frown deepening when she had push yet another huge fern aside. "And I suppose there no chance he'll be hiding out somewhere with _fewer_ weeds."

Emma hadn't found the greenery too difficult to ignore, but after seeing Regina irritatedly shoving them aside, she realised that the only reason they hadn't overwhelmed her the same way was due to the two men either side of her. Killian was actively pushing branches out of her way, and Neal was standing in just the right place so that he stopped the plants on the other side from reaching her.

Regina kept mumbling for a few minutes, Emma turning around when her annoyed murmurs came to an abrupt halt. David had drawn ahead of Regina, using his sword to cut the plants down before they could get in her or Mary-Margaret's way, which had apparently surprised her into silence.

The quiet continued as they trekked uphill, and although Emma assumed Killian and Neal knew where they were, she couldn't understand how. To her, everything looked the same.

"So you're sure we'll be able to see Pan's hideout from up there?" Emma asked. "It's high enough?"

"We should be able to see everything." Killian assured her. "Last I was here, Smee and I camped at the ridge and I mapped out the entire island. Unfortunately, I let Smee keep hold the map and it was soon misplaced."

"Smee?" She shook her head in disbelief. Most of the time, she found it easy to forget Killian was just as much of a storybook character as the others, as he seemed _realer_ than they did, but then he would say something like that and she'd remember. "Did he say 'Aye, aye, Captain?' or did Disney get that wrong?"

"Ah, yes, you haven't met him." Killian muttered, a short chuckle falling from his lips. "I'll introduce you when we return to Storybrooke."

"He's in Storybrooke?" Emma asked in surprised. Killian had barely mentioned his old shipmate, so she'd assumed he wasn't part of the curse. "You never mentioned him."

"Well, I wasn't partial to his cursed self so it's been awhile since we spoke." He admitted. "And after that, I didn't have the time to go searching for old friends."

Emma had to wonder what kind of man Smee had become under the curse, as Killian had never seemed too picky about who he'd get a drink with. After all, when she'd first arrived in Storybrooke, Killian regularly spent his evenings with Sidney Glass, and Emma couldn't imagine Smee being much worse than that man had been.

That was another name she hadn't heard much recently, and wondering exactly what had happened to the ex-reporter was a good distraction as they continued up towards the ridge, at least until Regina started complaining again.

"You realise that we'd be much quicker if you let me use my magic?" Regina said loudly, and Emma muffled a laugh when Killian rolled his eyes. "One click of my fingers and we could be up on that ridge, instead of wandering around."

"Neverland's too dangerous for that." Killian insisted. "You have no idea what you might land us in."

"He's right." Neal agreed, glancing over his shoulder at Regina. "You'd be kicking yourself if you poofed yourself somewhere and ended up in the Mermaid Lagoon."

Emma turned to face her, Killian pausing at her side even as Neal kept walking deeper into the island. "Look, Regina, if Killian says hiking's the best way, then it's the best way." She told her. "While we're here, we listen to him and Neal. They know this place. We don't."

She returned Killian's gracious smile, and for a few minutes, she stayed at his side as they followed Neal. It was only when she felt Mary-Margaret's hand on her arm that she fell back, allowing Regina and David to overtake her.

"Mary-Margaret?" She asked, slowing so that she was keeping the same pace as Mary-Margaret. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." Mary-Margaret insisted. "I just thought you might want a drink. We've not taken a break since we left the Jolly Roger. This place is hot, you need to stay hydrated."

Emma raised an eyebrow at her unnecessary concern, but took a few gulps from the offered water bottle. She was reluctant to admit it, but once she'd drank, she realised how thirsty she'd been. She hadn't let herself stop to even think about how parched she was.

"Thanks." She muttered. "I guess I needed that more than I thought."

The two women walked alongside one another, and although neither of them said anything, Emma kept glancing over at Mary-Margaret and she just knew that she wanted desperately to say something. And if Mary-Margaret had something she wanted to say, she wouldn't be able to keep quiet for much longer.

"You know, 'Mary-Margaret' is a bit formal." Mary-Margaret said hesitantly, a sheepish smile crossing her face when Emma drew to a sudden halt and turned to stare at her. "You could call me 'mom' if you want. You've done it before."

Emma gaped at her. Mary-Margaret had to know it hadn't meant anything except that their world might have been about to end, that the week since she, David and Killian returned from the Enchanted Forest hadn't been long enough for Emma to call her anything other than her name.

"That was back when…"

"We were about to die." Mary-Margaret finished quietly, her smile fading into a solemn line. "I get it."

She hurried away before Emma could attempt to comfort her, although it wasn't as though she had thought of anything to say.

Emma reached the others quickly, as they had stopped several yards ahead of them to discuss which way to go. She caught up just as David decided on a direction, Killian grabbing his arm and tugging him away from the thorned bush he was trying to go past.

"Not that way, mate." Killian warned, holding him still. "You want to stay as far away from that plant as you can."

"It's just thorns." David said, scowling at the black spines on the bush. "What's the problem?"

"It's Dreamshade." Killian told him. "One prick of that and you won't be around much longer."

David glanced warily at the plant he'd been so eager to walk past, and then he followed Neal as he hacked at the plants opposite the Dreamshade. Killian held the broken leaves aside for Regina and Mary-Margaret, but he let them drop when Emma reached him.

"Is everything alright?" He asked. "Mary-Margaret seemed rather upset when she rejoined us, and I know things had been difficult since-"

"She wanted to offer me a drink." Emma answered. "To mother me."

"Things haven't improved then?"

"Not really." Emma admitted quietly, glancing at the bushes her mother had just walked through in case she was still close enough to hear the conversation. "She wanted to go back to the Enchanted Forest. I didn't."

"But as far as she knew, you couldn't."

"Yeah, well, that didn't matter after what happened to August." Emma explained. "No matter what I said about how things were better in Storybrooke, she was just too stubborn to listen."

"She's not the only one who's stubborn." Killian said with a small smirk.

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Just that I doubt you were any more eager to listen to her points." Killian stated, taking her hand in his when she huffed and rolled her eyes, his thumb brushing gently across the back of her hand. "I may prefer whatever realm you happen to be in, but the Enchanted Forest isn't as terrible as you seem to believe."

Despite the conversation, she couldn't help the smile that teased the edge of her lips. "It's hard to listen when she act like she knows best. She's my mom, but it's not… We're the same age."

Killian's mouth thinned and then, when he didn't seem to know what to say, he tugged her close and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

She closed her eyes for only a second, let herself sink into him, and then pulled away. "We should go."

"Not yet." Killian murmured. "As concerned as I am, I had another reason for keeping you back. I wanted to give you this."

She watched, a frown on her face, as he reached down and drew one of the two swords he had hanging from his belt, holding the hilt out towards her. "What's this?"

"It's a cutlass." He told her. When she didn't take it, he shook his head exasperatedly. "You don't have your gun and you don't want to be in Neverland unarmed."

"I don't know how to use it." Emma said carefully, reaching out and wrapping her fingers around the hilt, measuring the weight of it in her hands. "Swords aren't exactly my thing."

"When we have time, I'll teach you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that move." She teased, feeling better when Killian chuckled. "You know you don't need an excuse to wrap your arms around me, right?"

Clearly, he wanted to show her just how well he knew that, because he stepped close and slid his arms around her, his eyes warm as he gazed down at her. "Well, if you'd rather someone else, I'm sure your father would be equally keen to show you, although I doubt his lessons will be as… _fun_. Until then, I'm sure you'll be more than capable enough to keep the Lost Boys away."

She kissed him then, a brief press of her lips to his, and then he drew back, offering his arm to her. She took it, her hand in the cradle of his elbow, and they finally followed after the others and climbed the several metres to the ridge.

David looked over his shoulder at them when he heard them coming, gesturing out towards the vast jungle they could see below the edge of the cliff. "It's not exactly a great view." He pointed out. "Unless Pan's camp is above the treetops, I don't think we're going to find him from up here."

"This nature hike was all for nothing." Regina said bitterly. "We've wasted our time. If you'd just let me use my magic, we'd have known that hours ago."

"Maybe we can't see Pan, but we're in a good place to start combing the jungle."

"Not exactly." Killian admitted through a grimace. "The Dark Jungle is the last place we want to set foot in."

"Especially if we don't know where we're going." Neal continued. "And right now, we don't."

~~~*~~~

Despite Emma and Regina's reservations, the group had come to the decision that the best thing to do was make camp. Killian and Neal had made it clear that Neverland would be less dangerous if they were well-rested. Regina didn't seem happy about it, but Emma trusted Killian wanted Henry safe almost as much as she did, same for Neal, and if he believed making camp was the best use of their time, she was going to listen.

It hadn't taken long to find a large enough clearing. Once there, Regina handed out the blankets she'd been carrying in her backpack, and David unpacked several packets of noodles from his. Emma held her blanket in her hands, watching as Mary-Margaret spread out both her and David's near the edge of the clearing.

Neal got a fire starting within seconds, and soon, they were all sat around the fire and using plastic forks to eat instant noodles.

"Shouldn't we be rationing this?" David asked through a mouthful of food. "If we all have a packet each, we're going to run out in a couple of days."

"Don't worry about it." Neal told him. "I lived on this island for almost two hundred years. I know how to survive here. We don't want to carry any more than we have to, so we eat the noodles now and when they're gone, I can get what we need."

"Aye." Killian agreed. "I may not have lived on the island while I was here, but I didn't arrive in Neverland with centuries worth of supplies on my ship. We're not going to starve."

When the meal was finished and the trash stuffed back into David's backpack, they settled down for the night. Mary-Margaret and David snuggled up together on the blankets that Mary-Margaret had already set up. Regina set up her own blanket as far from the couple as she could, and then she rolled onto her side, facing out of the clearing.

And then it was only Emma, Killian and Neal wandering around the small glade. The two men quickly laid out their blankets, flanking either side of the fire and making it so that the four beds circled the clearing. Emma clasped her blanket in her hands, suddenly hesitant.

It shouldn't take so much thought to decide where to lay her blanket, but Emma was certain that even if Neal wasn't there, she'd be just as unsure. Before Killian, she'd rarely slept a whole night with anyone, not since Neal, and as much as she loved him, she wasn't sure if she was ready to be cuddled up with him in front of everyone, the way her parents were.

But she'd had the worst day and she could feel just how long it had been since she'd had a good night sleep.

She spared only a quick glance towards Neal and then she joined Killian on his blanket. He was turned away from her, but he glanced over his shoulder at her as she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled close, burying her face between his shoulder blades and taking in a deep breath.

His fingers laced with hers, their hands resting against his chest, and it seemed like it only took a few minutes for Killian to fall asleep.

Unlike Killian, Emma found it impossible to relax. Without anyone talking or setting up the camp, she was unable to ignore the sounds of the island. When they'd been trekking, it had been too quiet for her to identify what the noises were, but now she could tell exactly what it was.

Somewhere, children were crying.

She wondered who it was, and when she realised the sobbing didn't seem to be stopping, she tried to figure out why they were crying, and why the sounds didn't seem to be bothering any of the others around the campfire.

For a while, she tried to ignore it, clinging just a bit more tightly to Killian, but when that didn't work, she carefully prized her hand out from under his and rolled onto her back, staring up at the canopy of leaves above her and wishing the crying would just _stop_.

What if one of the children was Henry? What if he thought he was alone and abandoned and that no one was coming him?

She sat up with a huff, desperately trying to convince herself that it couldn't be Henry. He wouldn't have lost hope so fast. He'd believe in her, in all of them, and he'd know they would save him. He _had_ to.

Killian rolled onto his side, towards her, and she looked down at him, allowing a small smile to dance across her lips. With Killian and Neal at her side, she was certain they would succeed. They both knew the island too well for Pan to have too much of an advantage.

For a few moments, she watched him. With his ribs and leg healed, he seemed comfortable, but Emma couldn't look away from the faint red lines that still marred his face, the last few visual signs of what had happened. He was still handsome, she doubted there was anything that could change that, but she didn't like the reminder. She swallowed nervously and then reached out, her finger gently tracing the old scratches as her magic wiped them away.

She was glad no one else was awake, because using her magic to heal him was something she wanted to keep private. She couldn't do it without focusing on how much she loved him, and those feelings weren't something she was ready to share with anyone.

Emma kept grazing her fingers gently across his cheek, ready to pull them back if it looked like he would wake up. Being in contact with him, even just her fingertips, made the crying quieter.

"He's, uh… You're really together." Emma drew her hand back sharply, turning to see Neal watching her from the other side of the campfire. "I guess it's different to know about it and to… well, see it."

"I guess it is." Emma agreed warily, wondering how long he'd been watching her. She didn't really have anything else to say after that, so she just looked at him, biting her lip anxiously when he didn't seem to want to look away.

"You're not… I guess I didn't think about what you might be like together." He said eventually. "I don't know what I…, well, I kind of tried not to think about you two at all but you're… He makes you happy, doesn't he? You know, between him and Tamara, he wouldn't have been the one I'd bet on helping out. Shows what I know, right?"

Emma stared at him, surprised, and after a few seconds without a response, Neal sighed, grimaced and still didn't look away.

She frowned at him, expecting him to keep talking, but when he didn't, she lay back down and stared back up at the black above her. The crying seemed louder now that she had nothing to focus on, now that she knew Neal was awake and watching and she couldn't cuddle up to Killian.

"Can't sleep?" She asked quietly, when the crying was too much.

"I'd forgotten about the crying." Neal muttered. "Or maybe it's just louder."

"You can hear them too?"

"Yeah." Neal told her. "Don't worry. You're not crazy."

"Who is it?"

"It's the Lost Boys." Neal said. "Pan takes boys that feel unloved or abandoned and for most of them, that doesn't change after they get here."

"How can they all sleep through it?" She wondered, staring at her parents as they slept easily. "Can't they hear it?"

"Maybe it's quieter if you've never been lost."

"But Killian-"

"He hears it." Neal interrupted. "He was the one who told me what it was. His father abandoned him too. I guess after two hundred years, you learn to sleep through it." Emma raised a questioning eyebrow, because that reason didn't work when Neal was wide awake. "I spent most of my time here in a cave. The crying was quieter there. I'd forgotten how loud it could be."

But as loud as the crying was, once Neal stopped talking and closed his eyes, he seemed to fall asleep within an hour.

Emma still couldn't sleep. Neal's explanation had only given her more questions. Maybe the others could hear it but it just didn't bother them as much. They hadn't spent nights feeling lonely and unwanted, they didn't hear the crying and remember the nights they'd spent huddled under duvets and sobbing into their pillow, wishing that one day they wouldn't be alone anymore.

She refused to lie there and wait for the noise to stop, and maybe it was a stupid idea, but she stood up, picked up the cutlass Killian had given her and started to wander away from the camp, towards the sound.

"So you _do_ hear it?" She hadn't expected to hear anyone speak to her, and Emma spun round to face them. It was a teenager talking, his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. "I was starting to think I'd misjudged you. You're Emma, right?"

"Who are you?" She asked warily, even though she was pretty certain she already knew who he was, her grip tightening around the helm of the cutlass.

"Oh, did I forget to introduce myself?" He replied, trying to sound innocent but only managing to be annoying. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan."

His confirmation was all she needed to hear before she charged at him, pinning him against a tree and holding the sword to his throat. His smirk only widened, an unsettling gleam of excitement in his eyes.

"Where's Henry?" She snarled. "Tell me!"

"You've got fire." He muttered appreciatively, his gaze darting over her face as he strained forward, trying to move closer to her without the blade cutting him. "I _like_ fire."

She ignored the glee in his expression. "Where is he?"

"Oh, he's still alive, if that's what you're worried about."

"Why the hell did you take him?"

Pan shrugged. "He's a very special boy, Emma."

"I know." Emma snapped. "That doesn't answer my question. What do you want with him?"

He glanced down at the sword and then back at her, one eyebrow raised. Emma grimaced and reluctantly let Pan go, keeping her sword still pointed towards him. Pan folded his arms, leaning back against the tree and looking her up and down.

"Do you know why I'm here, Emma?" He asked. "I wanted to see who I was up against. I wanted to see 'The Saviour'. I have to say, I am _not_ disappointed."

"And I guess the next thing you're going to say is how I'm never going to see Henry again?" Emma suggested, rolling her eyes. "I've heard this speech before. I'm pretty sure it was in several movies. Don't bother."

"No. I'm going to help you find him." Pan told her. "I'll give you a map. A map that will lead you straight to your son."

He reached into his shirt and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, holding it out towards her. Emma stared at it. "Seeing as you're the person who _has_ my son, I feel like you could be a bit more helpful if me finding him is really what you want. What is this _really_? A trap?"

"I may not be the most… well-behaved boy on the island, but I always keep my promises." He stated. "The path to finding Henry _is_ on this parchment."

Emma bit her lip, trying to figure out what his game was. She didn't want to take the parchment if that was what Pan wanted her to do, but at the same time, they had no idea where Henry might be and she was reluctant to turn down anything that might help.

And whatever the map told them, they'd know to be cautious.

With that in mind, she lowered her sword and stepped closer so that she could snatch the map out of his hands. "Why are you giving it to me?"

"See, it's not about finding Henry. It's about _how_ you find him." Pan explained. "And, Emma, you're the only one who can."

She unfolded the map, scowling at the creased, _blank_ , sheet of parchment. "This isn't a map." She muttered angrily. "This is nothing."

"Right now." Pan agreed. "But it doesn't have to be. You'll be able to read that map, Emma, but only when you stop denying who you really are."

"Who I really am?"

When she looked up from the map, Pan was gone.

~~~*~~~

Emma hadn't exactly been quiet as she stomped back towards camp, but it didn't matter. She could hear the others arguing before she even reached the clearing, but the moment she arrived there, they fell quiet.

"Oh, Emma! We were all so worried." Mary-Margaret cried, dashing towards her and engulfing her in a hug. Emma ignored Regina's quiet scoff and gently extricated herself from her mother's grip. "Is everything alright? Where did you go?"

"I needed a walk." She answered shortly, the parchment Pan had given her suddenly feeling heavy in her hands. Over Mary-Margaret's shoulder, Killian was watching her with concern. "I couldn't sleep."

"We thought the Lost Boys had taken you." Mary-Margaret explained. "We didn't know to do when Hook woke us and told us you were missing. We didn't think you'd had just gone for a walk. Not here."

"I told you." Neal interrupted Mary-Margaret before she could get any more upset. "I said you'd probably just needed some time or wanted to try and stop the crying. That was it, right?"

"What crying?"

Emma sighed loudly, finally just nudging Mary-Margaret aside and crossing the short distance to the others. "Yeah, I just… I had to do something that wasn't just lying down and listening. It probably wasn't the best idea."

"It doesn't matter." Killian stated, and Emma nearly smiled at the stern look he sent Mary-Margaret. "As long as you're alright, and you're here, it doesn't matter why you decided to take a stroll. You _are_ alright, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She answered, biting her lip when she saw Killian's dubious expression. "I met Pan."

" _What_?"

"He gave me this." Emma told them, holding the parchment out for them to see. Killian took it from her and unfolded it, a scowl creasing his eyebrows when he saw it was blank. David peered over his shoulder, glancing from the parchment to Killina in confusion. "He said it would lead me to Henry."

"When?" Killian asked. "When did he say that? Did you just see him?"

"A few minutes ago." She said. "I didn't go too far from camp. I don't know where he went. He was there and then he was just gone."

"Over there?" David checked, and when Emma nodded, he drew his sword and strode into the wilderness, Mary-Margaret at his side.

"So this is meant to be a map?" Killian wondered, handing the parchment to Neal when the other men held his hand out in a silent request. "He so likes his games."

"Games?" Regina repeated. "What game? There's nothing there."

"No, if he said there's something there, then there is." Neal stated, passing the so-called map back to Emma. "He's annoying like that."

"Yes, Pan tends to be irritatingly honest." Killian agreed. "But he wouldn't have done this without a reason. Whatever reveals that map, he either believes is impossible or is something that won't be pleasant." He paused, concern clear on his face when he looked up at Emma. "What do you have to do?"

"He said something about being able to read this thing once I stop denying who I am really am." Emma told them, scowling at the blank parchment crumpled in her hand. "Whatever the hell that means."

"Mind games, then." Neal stated. "Dick."

Regina rolled her eyes. "How do we know Pan won't use it to lead us into a trap?"

"Because he doesn't need to." Killian told her. "This whole island's his bloody trap."

Emma grimaced at the frustration colouring his voice, but before he could elaborate, David and Mary-Margaret noisily returned from their search. "Nothing." David said, as though their loud reappearance didn't make that clear enough. "There's no sign of him anywhere."

"Any luck with the map?" Mary-Margaret asked, nudging Neal aside when she hurried over to stand by Emma. "Do we know where to go?"

"Don't hold your breath." Regina whispered bitterly, her eyes widening with faux-innocence when Emma glared at her. "Oh, come on. Don't you see what he's doing? Every second we spend talking about this is another second we're not looking for _my_ son."

"You have a better idea?" Emma demanded. "I'm sure we'd all love to hear it."

"Magic." Regina told her sharply. "If there's a lock on there, I'll find a way around it."

"Pan said it had to be me." Emma told her. "Besides, I thought you needed time for your magic to recover. Wasn't that what you told Killian?"

"I'm willing to use what magic I have in order to reach Henry. I'm sorry if I think finding my son is more important than fixing one pirate's bum knee."

Emma gaped at the other woman, wanting to protest that she was certain they'd find Henry much quicker with an uninjured Killian than they would have otherwise. Before she could, Killian spoke up. "I'd listen to Emma, dear." Regina grumbled something under her breath, something about how Killian would always support Emma no matter what she said. "Breaking Pan's rules would be unwise."

"I agree." David chimed in. "We're not sure what Pan wants, and until we do, we should play his game. If it's making you impatient, you could always do what you usually do and kill whoever's making you wait. None of us would complain if you took your anger out on Pan."

Regina's lip curled, her fists clenched at her sides. Mary-Margaret clearly realised that David might have gone a bit too far, especially with how on edge the mayor already was, and she carefully stepped in front of her husband. "Regina, it's just that your magic is never _gentle_. If you use it on the map, we don't know what might happen."

"Well, it's a risk I'm willing to take." Regina snarled.

"Well, I'm not." Emma snapped, her grip on the map tightening just in case Regina tried to snatch it from her. "If I'm the one who's supposed to figure out this thing, I need to do what Pan said."

Regina sighed loudly, but Emma refused to react. Instead, she wandered over to a fallen log at the side of the clearing and sat down on it, spreading the parchment across her lap and staring down at it. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, but it didn't help to have everyone watching her expectantly.

After what felt like several minutes, she sighed heavily. "I don't know where to start." She admitted quietly. "I don't know what he wants."

"That doesn't mean you should give up." Mary-Margaret insisted, joining her on the log. "If Pan's playing a game, that means you can win. Come on, Emma. Who _are_ you?"

She stared at her mother for several moments and then Emma grimaced, turning determinedly back to the parchment. "My name is Emma Swan."

"Unfortunately, love, I'd wager the solution to Pan's riddle is a bit more complicated than that." Killian said sympathetically, and after she sent him a pleading look, he sat down on her other side, making it so that she was sandwiched between him and Mary-Margaret. "Pan won't want it to be that easy."

"Don't hold anything back." Mary-Margaret encouraged. "I'm sure you can do this."

Emma glanced between everyone, nervous, and then she felt Killian's hand over hers. The touch was warm and comforting, and she closed her eyes for only a second, and the moment she opened them again, she started talking.

"I'm Henry's mother." She stated hesitantly. "I used to live in Boston, and I was a bail bonds person. I'm now the Sheriff of Storybrooke."

She glanced up at the others, hoping to see reassuring nods and smiles, but they all just seemed to be waiting for her to say more. At her silence, Regina rolled her eyes and she heard Mary-Margaret sigh quietly.

"Don't you think that maybe you're leaving some things out?"

"I…" She bit her lip, glancing over at Killian. He smiled reassuringly, squeezing her hand briefly. "I'm with Captain Hook. I'm, well, I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, which apparently makes me the product of true love. I was born in the Enchanted Forest and I was sent through a portal in a tree so that I could break a curse."

"And you were able to break the curse because you're the…" David prompted.

"Come on." Mary-Margaret pressed. "You don't need to be embarrassed to say it."

Emma rolled her eyes but begrudgingly acquiesced. "And I guess I'm the saviour."

She didn't know what the others expected, but Emma wasn't surprised when nothing changed. Regina scoffed, but Mary-Margaret let out a disappointed sigh and wrapped her arms around Emma's shoulders. "I don't get it." She muttered. "You said you're the saviour. You've never admitted it before. Why didn't it work?"

"Maybe because I'm not the saviour?" Emma suggested. "It's like Rumplestiltskin said. Yeah, I was the only one who could break the curse but I've done that and now that's it. I'm not the saviour anymore."

"Of _course_ you are." Mary-Margaret insisted. "Look, honey, we'll figure it out."

"No, you won't." Regina snapped, stepping forward and snatching the map away from Emma. "But I will. I'm starting to think that there isn't a map on here but that doesn't mean it can't lead us to Henry."

"But we said that-"

"I don't care." She interrupted. "This parchment belonged to Pan. If we use the locator spell, it will lead us right to him. We won't _need_ a map."

Emma watched as Regina waved her hand over the blank parchment. It hovered an inch above her palm for only a moment and then it started to float away from the group, as though a wind was sweeping it away from them.

"So it appears we _will_ be venturing into the Dark Jungle after all." Killian admitted, annoyed, after Regina had already stomped off after the map. "I feel like I should have seen this coming."

"You mean, the last place we should ever set foot?" Emma confirmed, grimacing when Killian nodded at her. "Great."

"We should grab our things and get moving." Neal ordered, already shoving blankets back into one of the backpacks. "It's unlikely the Lost Boys don't know where we are, but _if_ they don't, we want to keep it that way."

Both David and Mary-Margaret quickly helped Neal pack everything away, but before Emma could help them, she felt Killian's hand on her arm and he was drawing her away from the others.

"Killian, what are you-"

"They can manage." He murmured. "Even if they leave before us, we'll be able to catch up. I just wanted to talk to you."

"About what?"

Killian sighed, his expression softening as he gently tugged her slightly closer. "I know I asked before, but now that the others aren't listening, I was hoping you'd be a bit more honest with me. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She stated unconvincingly. Killian raised an eyebrow. "I'm just tired, but it's not as if that's something new. I promise that Pan didn't do anything but irritate me."

He stared at her for a few seconds, and then he shook his head. "You're not alright, are you, Swan?" He said sympathetically. "I know Pan can be…"

"A pain in the ass?"

"I think that's putting it mildly."

"I'm sorry I worried you." She muttered. "It was just when I was trying to sleep, it felt like… I don't like this place. It brings a lot of things back that I've spent a long time trying not to think about."

"And I'm sure Pan's challenge hasn't helped with that." Killian acknowledged. "Look, Swan, whoever Pan thinks you are, whoever he wants _you_ to think you are, he doesn't know you the way I do. He doesn't know _you_."

His words were comforting. Killian had seemed certain that Pan was telling the truth about the hidden map, but maybe Emma wasn't failing to reveal it because she didn't know herself. If Pan didn't know her, then maybe he was wrong about who she really was.

She smiled, stepping close to him and resting her hand against his heart. His eyebrows creased together, glancing down at her hand in confusion. "What?"

"Thank you." She told him, returning his tender smile. "Just… thank you."

Killian ducked his head, chuckling quietly, and Emma found it adorable how embarrassed her words seemed to have made him. "Come on, love." He said quietly, brushing what she'd said aside. "We don't want to let the piece of paper get too far ahead."

"Two more seconds?"

He smirked, and then he swooped down on her, his hand on her cheek and his lips hard against hers. She rocked backwards, knocked slightly off-balance by the urgency of his kiss, clutching at his jacket collar to keep herself steady.

The kiss didn't last long, but even after their lips parted, they stayed close together. "You'll save Henry, Emma." He breathed. "And you'll show Pan that you're so much more than whatever it is he thinks will hurt so much."

She didn't know what to say to that, not when his belief in her was almost tangible, so she brushed her lips against his cheek and released his collar.

"Come on then, Captain." She murmured. "Let's move."

~~~*~~~

Emma was starting to think the Dark Jungle was never ending. Admittedly, the constant night made it difficult to figure out how much time had passed, but from the way her feet were aching, she felt like they had been walking for hours.

Neal was in the lead, dodging under branches and jumping over roots as they moved deeper into the jungle. Killian followed closely behind him, holding the branches aside and offering his hand to help people over the roots.

Regina ignored his offer of assistance, but Mary-Margaret gave him a surprised, grateful smile and let him support her as she clambered over the root. David took Killian's hand too, grinning over his shoulder at Emma.

"Why, thank you, good sir." David joked.

Killian swept into a low bow, a smirk on his face. David chuckled, walking away when Killian turned his attention back to Emma. He was still bowed as he held his hand out to her, and when Emma slipped her hand into his, he pressed a kiss to the back of it.

And maybe they were walking deeper and deeper into somewhere dangerous, and _maybe_ Killian was being ridiculous, but she had to smile.

The others had come to a halt a few feet ahead. "Why have we stopped?" Emma asked. "Are we here?"

"We've stopped because the map's stopped." Neal told her. "Just down there."

He pointed at a large clearing just in front of them, the parchment floating in the centre of it. Emma frowned, looking curiously at Regina. "There's no one there. Isn't it supposed to, you know, _find_ Pan?"

"Maybe your spell was wrong, Regina." Mary-Margaret suggested cautiously, but Regina just sneered and started walking into the centre of the clearing. Emma was the first to follow, the others traipsing after her.

She was about to pocket the map, but before she could fold it back up, she noticed someone, standing on the small swell of land at the other side of the clearing. She knew that coat and that scarf, and at that realisation, her heart pounded furiously.

They'd done it. They'd found him.

She rushed forward, calling out his name and waiting for him to turn and run to her, but just as he started to spin round, she felt someone seize her elbow and tug her backwards. "What?"

"I don't think that's Henry." It was Neal. Emma gaped at him, wanting to look back around and prove him wrong. "It can't be this easy. Not with Pan."

"Baelfire. You ruined my entrance." The drawling voice was all the confirmation Emma needed, and she glanced back over her shoulder to see that it _was_ Pan, other Lost Boys emerging from behind the trees surrounding them. "Oh, hello, Emma."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the others surrounding her, their weapons at the ready. She knew she should be doing the same, instead of holding her own cutlass loosely at her side, but she was too distracting by all the questions Pan had given her.

Why was he wearing her son's clothes? How had he gotten them from Henry?

"Where the _hell_ is Henry?" she snarled. "What have you done to him?"

"You ignored the rules. That's not fair."" Pan continued, striding along the top of the ridge and overlooking her question. Instead, he sent a sly glance past her, to Killian. "Bad form. I expected more from you, Captain."

"Aye, and you'll get it." Killian growled, and when Emma looked over at him, he had his hook at the ready.

"Give Henry to me." Emma ordered.

"Sorry." Pan said insincerely. "Can't. Don't you know, Emma? Cheaters never win."

He jerked his head in their direction, and the boys around them started shouting and whooping. An arrow shot past her, missing only because Killian tugged her out of the way, his hook almost painful around her wrist.

"Watch out for their arrows." He ordered, a slight tremor in his voice. "They're laced with dreamshade."

Emma didn't have time to respond because, after one more nod from Pan, the Lost Boys charged. She could see David knocking the arrows aside, Mary-Margaret sending arrows of her own back towards the children.

Killian stepped in front of Emma when a Lost Boy got close, raising his sword just as the Lost Boy swung a club towards them. She'd never seen him fight before, and for a second, she felt almost entranced as he met each swing before it could get close, disarming the Lost Boy with a few clever twists of his sword.

She had to look away, clumsily raising her own cutlass to stop the attack of another Lost Boy. She wasn't used to this sort of combat, and it was difficult to push the boy back. Back in Boston, sword fights weren't exactly common, but Emma had always managed to use what she had available. Perhaps it wasn't as graceful as Killian, but she managed to keep the boy at a distance, lashing towards him with the blunt edge of the cutlass.

She couldn't hurt him, not when he was barely a teenager, but she had no option but to keep fighting. She tried to force him back, to get at least one Lost Boy away from the rest of the battle, but he seemed to determined to do otherwise.

The ground was uneven and when Emma took another step forward, her foot caught on a root and she tumbled forward, knocking the boy down with her. As they rolled down the slope, she threw her cutlass aside, not wanting either of them to be accidentally impaled.

He tried to scramble away from her the moment they stopped falling, but Emma wouldn't let him. She held him in place, her hands firm against his shoulders. "Where's Henry?" she demanded, ignoring the way he was struggling underneath her. "Tell me where he is!"

The boy shook his head, but for just a moment, his eyes met Emma's and her grip faltered. She recognised the look in his eyes, knew that she'd once had the same desperation and anger in her own. But as much as Emma understood the boy's expression, it didn't calm her down. Instead, she felt even more urgent than before, because Henry couldn't get the same look in his eyes.

She had to find him, had to get him back before he lost hope and was left with only resentment and loneliness.

"Where is he?" she screamed. "Where's Henry?"

The boy shook his head, refusing to answer. She wanted to ask again, but a shrill whistle broke through the hollers and clashes, and in response, the boy jolted forward, knocking his head against hers and sending her reeling back, her hands pressed against her forehead.

He struggled out from underneath her, and Emma was vaguely aware of the Lost Boys retreating from the clearing.

"Remember what I told you." Pan said in farewell. "The map _will_ show you where Henry is, but only when you stop denying who you really are. I'll be sure to give Henry your regards."

She let out a frustrated sigh, her head aching, and a few minutes she stayed sat in the clearing. They hadn't found anything, they still had no idea where Henry might be.

All they'd done was waste time.

~~~*~~~

They'd settled in another small glade, one they'd found after a few minutes walking deeper into the jungle. Emma perched on a log, watching the others as they bustled around the small space. David and Mary-Margaret were talking quietly with one another, apparently about a small rip in David's jacket. Killian and Neal were loudly arguing about the most likely place for Pan to be hiding. Regina was sat at the base of a tree, looking as despondent as Emma felt.

The empty map was resting on Emma's knees. She wanted to know what to say, what she needed to admit in order to see where her son was, but she wasn't sure what else she could try.

She remembered what she'd said the last time she tried, and what she hadn't said, and after a quick, discreet glance at the others, she lifted the map up and whispered to it. "I'm Emma Swan, and I'm in love with Killian Jones."

It was something she knew to be true, but it was a long shot, and she wasn't surprised when the map remained blank.

Emma could feel someone watching her, and she felt nervousness wash over her at the thought that someone might have seen what she had said, something that she wasn't ready for anyone else to know. She looked up, her eyes meeting Neal's. She sent him a weak smile, one he returned, and after a few more seconds, he turned his attention back to Killian.

Neal muttered a few things, and then the two men walked towards her, sitting either of side of her on the log. "Don't let Pan get in your head, Emma." Neal told her, and she glanced over at Killian to see that he was nodding his agreement. "I spent two centuries here and once he figured out I wasn't in his way, he left me alone."

"Bae's right." Killian continued. "If he didn't think you were a threat, he wouldn't have needed to do what he just did. He wanted you disheartened and he wanted it fast. He wants you to think you're going to fail."

She wasn't sure she agreed. It would be nice to believe that he'd only taunted them like that because they could succeed, but she couldn't stop thinking that of the possibility that he just wanted them to know how quickly he could stop them.

Whatever she thought, she appreciated the attempt to comfort her, and after sending a grateful smile to Neal, she allowed Killian to fold her into his arms. She buried her face into his shoulder, suddenly very aware that Neal was watching them, but it didn't matter after she felt a light kiss pressed to her hair and she clung to Killian just a bit tighter.

Emma couldn't let them console her for much longer, not when they'd already wasted so much time, and she told them as much, sending them back to their discussion over Pan's potential hiding places. As soon as they vacated their seats, Mary-Margaret and David took their places, and Emma let out a heavy sigh.

"Don't let Pan shake your confidence." Mary-Margaret told her. "We've all had moments where we felt we couldn't prevail."

"Guys, not now." She replied quietly. "I don't want to do this. I just want to find Henry."

"Emma, please. Talk to me. Maybe I can help." Mary-Margaret looked down at her hands, and Emma noticed she was fidgeting nervously, the way she always did when she had something she needed to say. "You let Hook help. Can't you give David and I the chance to help you too?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Emma protested. "We need to focus on finding Henry. If that's even possible. I know Killian thinks I can do this, but he's told me what sort of person Pan is and I don't know how I can fight back against someone like him."

"Of course you can fight back." David insisted. "You're the most determined person I know."

"And you're the-"

"What?" Emma asked sharply, interrupted Mary-Margaret. "A saviour? Or is that just what you want me to be?"

" _What_?"

"Do you want to know why Killian is the one who helps?" She asked, Mary-Margaret nodded reluctantly. "Because he doesn't want me to be anything else. It doesn't matter to him if I'm the saviour or if I'm not. He just… With him, I know that. I don't know that with you. I broke one curse. By accident. It doesn't exactly make me a hero. It doesn't make me what you want."

She felt David's hand rest hesitantly against her arm, and she glanced over at him. "What do you mean?" He muttered. "Emma, you're all we could ever want."

She swallowed, uncomfortable about opening up to them enough for them to understand. She hated how things had been recently, especially between her and Mary-Margaret, but she wasn't someone who talked things through.

But she looked over at Killian, took in a deep breath, and decided to try.

"Look, I don't know how the curse worked." She started. "I don't know if it felt like twenty-eight years had passed or if you woke up and it was like the curse had been cast only moments before, but it doesn't me. It was twenty-eight years to me. I still spent twenty-eight years alone and finding you guys now doesn't change that."

"No," Mary-Margaret agreed. "But it doesn't mean things can't be different."

"But they won't be what you want." Emma stated. "I grew up. I've lived almost as long as you have. I've been through things that you couldn't understand."

"But we can try. Why is it so hard for you to understand we're here for you now?"

"Because I've spent my entire life alone." Emma muttered, sniffing back tears. "No one was ever there for me and that's not going to change because you remember. I think you want me to be your little girl, but I'm not. I _can't_ be. I'm not what you wanted, and you weren't there when I needed you. I need you when I was being shipped from foster home to foster home. When I left the foster system and I had to make it by myself. When I was pregnant and in prison. But I don't need you now. Not the way you want me to need you."

"Emma…"

"I don't need you telling me what's best, like living in the Enchanted Forest, and I don't need you giving me advice as though I haven't lived just as long as you."

She felt David's hand flex slightly on her arm, and then she let him pull her gently against his side, his hand now cupping the side of her head. "What _do_ you need?" He asked gently. "What can we do?"

"I need you to be my friends." She answered hesitantly. "I need you to be here and to understand that I've grown up and I have my own life experiences to draw on. I don't need you parenting me." It was clear that Mary-Margaret wanted to protest, but David must have sent her a look because she stayed quiet. "I'm not saying that I don't want you as my parents, but I… I don't need mothering all the time. Sometimes, I just need Mary-Margaret. I want you to listen to me the way you used to."

Mary-Margaret's head was bowed, her lips drawn into a thin line, and Emma wished her words hadn't hurt her friend as much as they clearly had. David seemed more understanding, and after a brief squeeze of her shoulders, he left the women alone.

"Look, Mary-Margaret, I'm sorry, but-"

"You don't need to be." Mary-Margaret muttered quietly. "It's the truth. You're incredible, Emma, and I love you, but you're right. The curse broke and I… I wanted the baby that I'd sent away. I wasn't really prepared for you."

And even though Emma had already known Mary-Margaret felt that way, it hurt to hear it out loud.

They shared an awkward silence for a few minutes. Emma watched Mary-Margaret fidgeting, feeling like she should say something that would make things less uncomfortable. It was Mary-Margaret who spoke up first.

"That boy…" she began. Emma frowned, unsure what she was talking about. "You stopped fighting him. Why?"

"Because he was just a boy." Emma answered quietly. She hadn't realised Mary-Margaret had seen her stop, that _anyone_ had seen her stop, and she didn't want to have to explain. "I didn't want to hurt him."

"No." Mary-Margaret muttered. "There was something else. I saw it in your eyes. Why did you stop?"

"Why?" She repeated, clenching her hands into tight fists and willing herself not to cry. "Because when I looked at his face, I saw me. That look in his eyes… The despair. I had it. When I was just a lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would. A little girl who cried herself to sleep at night because she wanted her parents _so_ bad and could never understand why they gave her up."

Her voice broke and she stopped talking, her throat too thick to say anything more. She sniffed, but it was too much and she couldn't stop the tears from escaping, a few loud sobs tearing through her. Mary-Margaret murmured something, but Emma didn't hear it, and then she felt her mother's hand close around hers.

"It's just, on this island, I don't feel like… a hero or a saviour." Emma continued, through her tears. "I just feel like what I've always been. An orphan."

"Emma! Look!"

Mary-Margaret sounded surprised, sad, and Emma used her free hand to wipe her eyes, trying to clear her vision so she could see what Mary-Margaret was talking about. It didn't take her long to notice, her eyes widening when she saw that the parchment on her lap was no longer blank.

"What happened?"

"You accepted what you are." Mary-Margaret explained solemnly. "And it's okay. You _were_ an orphan. It's my job to change that."

Emma didn't know what to say, she'd said enough, so instead of responding, she prized her hand out from Mary-Margaret's, grabbed the map and stood up, rushing over to the others. "It's working!" she announced, ignoring the fact that her voice was still shaking and she still felt like she was on the verge of tears. "We know where Henry is."

Everyone crowded around her, peering at the map she was holding out in front of her. Killian reached over her shoulder to trail his hook along the parchment. "We're here." He told everyone. "At the Southern tip of the isle, in the middle of the Dark Jungle. Pan's camp, according to this, lies due north. That's where he's keeping Henry."

"So what are we waiting for?" Regina demanded. "Let's go."

"The terrain's not easy." Killian replied. "There will undoubtedly be some nasty impediments along the way. We should prepare."

"We only made it out of our last encounter because Pan let us." David admitted. "We need a new plan."

"Agreed. It's time we stop playing his game and he starts playing ours."

"And if I disagree?" Regain asked.

"Go ahead." Emma snapped. "But I think you know our best chance is together."

"You better be right."

Regina snatched the map out of her hands and started to stride away, everyone but Killian following her. Emma waited until they'd all left the clearing before sniffling and wiping her eyes, wanting to remove any signs of the conversation she'd shared with Mary-Margaret.

"Excellent show of patience, love." Killian muttered, nudging her hand aside so that he could gently brush away the remaining traces of her tears. "And that's what defeats a nasty little boy."

"I hope so." She whispered, turning her head into his caress.

"So how did you unlock the map?"

"I did what Pan asked."

Killian tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowed and she knew he was searching for the answer in her expression. "Who does Pan think you are, Swan?"

"You said he didn't know me." Emma murmured, swallowing at the concern she saw clearly on his face. "You were wrong."

"So who are you?"

"I'm an orphan." She said bluntly, "The curse breaking hasn't changed that. I looked into the eyes of a Lost Boy and I saw me. I've been just as lost, just as desperate. And I guess Pan knows what a Lost Boy looks like, because he only needed to meet me once to know I was just the same. That I'll _always_ be an orphan and part of me is just always waiting to be alone again. To have no one."

Killian's jaw clenched, and then he gently tilted her head back just slightly, so she could look nowhere but at him. "To be a Lost Girl?" he clarified. Emma nodded, frowning when Killian let out a soft chuckle at her response. "Emma, you'll never be a Lost Girl. Not again. I will _always_ find you."

She was going to cry again, because he sounded so sincere and certain and she wanted to believe him more than _anything_.

Emma couldn't think of anything to say, not after that, not when he'd somehow managed to find the words she so desperately needed to hear, so instead of saying anything, she stepped closer and kissed him, a soft kiss that she hoped told him everything she was thinking.

It was only when he took her hand and they started after the others that she realised she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

"You too." She said quietly, a shy smile on her face when she felt him looking at her. "I'll find you too."


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Hawkeye733 for editing the chapter! I hope you enjoy it!

** Chapter 44 **

The map Pan had given Emma wasn't exactly detailed, but Killian and Neal knew Neverland well enough to direct them towards Pan's camp. Emma had snatched the map back from Regina the instant she and Killian caught up with others, deciding that, as Pan had given her the map, it was up to her to read it. However, with Killian permanently at her side, her hand still holding his, he'd been able to see the map over her shoulder and soon he was the one directing them through the jungle.

Neal kept close behind them, and although Emma was sure they'd only been in Neverland for about a day, hearing Killian and Neal bicker over the best route was starting to sound normal.

As much as she wanted to be the one leading them to Henry, she found Neverland too disorienting. To her, it all looked the same, trees and ferns and thorns always surrounding them. At least Killian always knew where they were.

If it had been anyone else, Emma might have protested that she could manage by herself. Except she knew that Killian believed that just as strongly as she did, and when she knew that, she found that she didn't care that he insisted on helping.

She wanted him to help because it meant she wasn't alone in this.

He'd all but promised she'd never be alone again.

It was something she'd always wanted to hear, and he'd said without any prompting. He'd looked her in the eyes and just _said_ it, and although she'd kissed him in response, he hadn't even blinked when she returned the sentiment.

Maybe he didn't know what it meant for her to say it. She'd never said the words out loud before, but she'd thought them. She'd spent years thinking them, when she was in Tallahassee and still believed she'd find Neal again. Still believed Neal would find her.

Tallahassee had been lonely.

She tightened her grip on Killian's hand, a quick squeeze just to reassure herself that he was still right next to her, and then she glanced over her shoulder to see if the others were still close behind them.

Neal was nearest, and when her gaze glanced over him, he was already looking at her. He smiled, something Emma couldn't identify in his expression, and he didn't look away. She could feel him still staring even as she looked past him to the others, Regina only a few steps behind him, David and Mary-Margaret several feet away.

"How much further?" Regina asked. "We've been walking for hours."

"We're should be getting closer," Killian answered, not even bothering to look over his shoulder and direct his reply to her. "Neverland may be dangerous, but it isn't a big place. I've often traversed the width of the isle in only a day's walk."

"Okay, so where are we now?"

Emma turned back to look at the map, and her jaw dropped in disbelief. The cross that marked where Henry was had moved. They'd been so close, Killian occasionally using his hook to point to where they were, and maybe she couldn't have told them where they were on the island, but she remembered where the X had been.

"Son of a bitch!" she cursed, holding the map out towards Killian. "It's moved, right? Where is it now?"

He released her hand so he could take the map, and Emma automatically tucked her hand into the bend of his elbow. "We're here," he showed her, his hook pointing to a point a few centimetres north of the mark. "I suppose _this_ is Pan's game."

"How is it now behind us?"

"What?" Mary-Margaret's voice rang out from behind them, and Emma looked around to see that she and David had finally caught up, although David seemed a bit winded. "How is that possible?"

"You got us lost," Regina spat. "No wonder it took you two hundred years to escape this place."

"No. Pan told us the map would show us where Henry is," Killian snapped, his vehemence clearly taking Regina aback. "That's all he promised. He's toying with us, keeping us away from him by sending us on a wild goose chase while he uses Henry for… whatever it is he wants from him."

"So this isn't going to help?" Emma clarified, exhaling shakily when Killian nodded. "This whole trek has been for nothing?"

"Swan, breathe," Killian muttered. He folded the map up and put it in his pocket, offering Emma his hand as soon it was free. "Pan played his hand too early. We know he's taunting us with the map, so we know not to use it. We have time to find another way."

"You think so?"

"I told you walking was idiotic," Regina stated. "I suggest using magic. We can materialize in the camp and grab Henry before Pan has time to move him."

"Pan will have shields against magic, I fear," Killian told her. "Such an attempt would end in your death and, more importantly, mine and Emma's. _That's_ why we're walking."

"So what's your idea? How are we going to find it?"

"By using someone he trusts."

"Who?" David asked. "I mean, I'm guessing he doesn't trust you."

Killian chuckled weakly in agreement. "Not after the number of cakes my crew stole. But I wasn't talking about me. I was talking about a fairy."

Emma stared at him. He couldn't be talking about who she thought he was, although after the last few weeks, she doubted anything would surprise her.

"What, Tink?" Neal asked, and Emma shook her head in disbelief. She shouldn't have told herself otherwise, not when she should have known that, given the way things were going, she was bound to run into Tinkerbell at some point. "Yeah, I guess that might work. She was still here when I left and no one stays in Neverland long without either keeping out of Pan's way or making a deal."

"So what?" Emma checked. "She's an inside source? I mean, I don't know Neverland as well as either of you, and my memories of the Disney film are a little spotty, but I definitely remember Tink being pretty loyal to cartoon Pan."

"Come on, love, you have to know by now that the cartoon is hardly accurate. At the very least, she'll know about the camp," Killian promised. "Even if it's only so she can stay away. Hopefully, she'll be able to get us in. If we're really lucky, she might even have some pixie dust left."

"You mean, fairy dust?"

"No, pixie dust," David corrected, a hopeful smile written across his lips. "It's stronger. Like nuclear fairy dust."

"So what?" Emma asked. "Are we going to fly in?"

"No, but with enough pixie dust, we might be able to get the Jolly Roger off the ground and fly back to Storybrooke with Henry," Killian told her. "Getting home will be much more difficult otherwise."

"This is a bad idea," Regina interrupted. "Mark my words. This Tinkerbell is _not_ going to save us."

Emma stared at Regina, narrowing her eyes. With Henry in danger, surely it was worth a try. After the realisation that the map was useless, it wasn't as though they had anything else they could do. She couldn't understand why Regina was being so negative.

It couldn't just be because they were still refusing to let her use magic.

She peered over at Killian, relieved to see he was shaking his head at Regina. She trusted him more than the mayor, and after a quick discussion over the best way to reach Tinkerbell's home, the group continued fighting their way through the leaves, deeper into the jungle.

"You disagree with Regina, right?" Emma asked quietly, once she and Killian had taken the lead once again. "You think she'll help?"

"I wish I could say I was certain, but I can't," Killian admitted. "She'll tell us where Pan is, but I don't know if we can expect anything more."

"It's better than nothing." They shared a comfortable silence for several minutes, until Emma was sick of it, and then she allowed a light, teasing smirk to cross her face. "So, you seem pretty familiar with the way to Tink's house."

He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, and after she allowed her grin to widen, he shook his head and chuckled. "Why?" he asked. "Are you jealous?"

"What? No!"

His eyebrow went even higher, and then he released her hand and slung his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her against his side. "There's no need."

She peered at him. "Really?"

"I'm not going to lie, Swan," He told her, his voice thick with amusement. "I considered it."

"Oh, right," Emma said quietly, no longer joking. "Okay. So that whole jealousy thing-"

"I spent two hundred years on this island," Killian interrupted, brushing a quick kiss to the side of her head. Emma squirmed slightly, too aware that they were very clearly visible to the rest of the group. "I would have been tempted by any woman."

She rolled her eyes, and Killian responded with a handsome, boyish grin. She knew what he was doing, trying to make her smile despite everything, and even though she'd had a moment of envy, he was succeeding.

"So why was it only something you considered, then?"

He clearly hadn't expected the question, his grin fading into a much more somber grimace. "Because after so long in Neverland, I was tired of waiting for my revenge. All I wanted was to return back to the Enchanted Forest and finally end things. I didn't have time for dalliances."

The talk about his search for vengeance surprised her. After the curse had broken, he hadn't hidden that he'd spent years looking for vengeance, even if it wasn't something he often spoke about. But even though she'd known about it, had _seen_ it, she'd never really understood just how long it had consumed him until that moment.

Killian didn't seem willing to meet her gaze after his admission, his cheeks and his nose tinged pink.

"I'm glad you have time now," she joked, keeping her expression light when Killian finally glanced at her. His attempt to cheer her up had only made him miserable, and she wanted to give his smile back. "I like dallying with you."

Her words worked, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Swan, I'd have always found time for you."

"If you're done with your flirting, Miss Swan," Regina snapped, surprising Emma with how close she was behind them. "Can I have a word?"

Emma raised her eyebrows expectantly, but after a few seconds silence, Regina rolled her eyes and gestured for Killian to keep moving. Clearly, Regina wasn't going to talk with Killian there, so Emma ducked out of his hold and sent him a reassuring smile.

Killian didn't keep walking until David caught up with them, and it was only when both men were several feet away that Regina finally began to speak. She didn't seem to care that Mary-Margaret and Neal were still nearby, only that Killian had walked away. "This plan isn't going to work."

"What?" Neal asked, he and Mary-Margaret joining the two women in a huddle. "What are you talking about?"

"There's another way."

Emma rolled her eyes, certain that she already knew what Regina was about to suggest. "Is there?"

"Magic."

Emma rolled her eyes, a loud sigh of frustration falling from her lips. "We _just_ went through this. Killian said there were probably going to be shields. I don't know about you, but I don't want to explode anytime soon."

"We won't… Look, I'm not talking about my magic," Regina snapped. "I'm talking about ours."

"Ours?" Neal repeated. "Emma has…? Nevermind. We don't use magic. I thought we'd agreed on that. It always comes with a price and just because you're the ones casting it, it doesn't mean you'll be the ones to pay it. I've seen it enough to know that."

"Sometimes not using it comes with a price too," Regina protested. "I bet you and I combined are strong enough to overpower Pan."

"What if we're not?" Emma pointed out. "I'm not taking a chance on that. We're talking about Henry's life."

"I'm aware of that."

"Look, I know you don't like this plan," Emma stated, sharing an exasperated look with Neal. "Let's just see it through. At least, we can see if we find Tinkerbell."

Regina grimaced, glancing around at the others as though one of them might suddenly agree with her. "Do you think it's the best plan because your boyfriend came up with it?"

"Right," Emma muttered, her bitter chuckle causing Regina to scowl angrily, her lips drawn into a thin line. "So that's why you didn't want him here? Do you honestly think I wouldn't have said something before if I disagreed with him? We're looking for Henry. I'm not going to let us waste time just to make Killian happy. My _boyfriend_ is one of two people here who knows what the hell they're doing on this island. So yeah, I think it's the best plan."

"Emma's right," Neal said suddenly. Emma gaped at him, surprised by his support. "If Hook's plan had no chance of working, one of us would have said something. He's my son too, Regina."

She felt strangely satisfied when Regina paled and looked away, her arms folded across her chest. "Fine." The mayor grumbled. "But when Tinkerbell refuses to help, I'm going to say I told you so."

Emma didn't bother to reply to that, because if anything was going to waste their time, it would be her and Regina arguing. Instead, she just strode off into the jungle, hearing the others follow after her.

Killian and David hadn't gone too far, only a couple of minutes away. They stopped talking as soon as they noticed her, the smile on Killian's face so innocent that Emma couldn't help the suspicion that their conversation hadn't been a simple chat.

"Everything okay?" she asked warily, once she'd caught up to them.

"Fine," David answered quickly. Killian said nothing. "We were just wondering what Regina wanted to talk about."

"Nothing important."

And although Killian took her hand and continued through the forest like nothing was wrong, Emma could see the tension in his face, his mouth stuck in a solemn grimace. Whatever they were talking about, Killian hadn't liked it.

"Everything's okay, right?"

He didn't answer.

~~~*~~~

It felt like they had barely travelled any deeper into the jungle when David requested another break. The only reason Emma didn't protest was that he really did look exhausted. His face was pink and sweaty, his breathing heavy and uneven and he was clutching at his side.

"Five minutes," Killian promised, his gaze not leaving David as the other man leant back against a tree and took several long, deep breaths. "It's not much further."

"David, are you alright?" Emma asked. He didn't answer for a moment, too busy waving Mary-Margaret away and insisting he just needed a minute. "If you want, you and Mary-Margaret could stay here and we'll go find Tink?"

"No," David insisted. "I'm fine. It's just hot here and I'm not good with heat. Don't worry. I'm not going to let you do this alone."

She glanced quickly at Killian, wondering if he thought David's behaviour was as worrying as she did. Other than a clenched jaw, his face was blank, and when she managed to catch his eye, he immediately looked away.

Neal took advantage of their short break to rummage through the top of his backpack for leftover snacks, and it was only when he offered everyone a handful of nuts and raisins that Emma noticed Regina wasn't with them.

"Does anyone know where Regina is?" she asked, grimacing at how everyone shook their heads in response. "Great. I guess I'll go find her then."

She pulled her hand out of Killian's and strode back the way they'd arrived, ignoring the protests from the others. They didn't need to worry. Emma wasn't foolish enough to wander Neverland alone. If she couldn't find Regina within a few hundred metres, she'd come back and they could all figure something out.

Despite their complaints, it didn't seem like anyone was following her anyway.

Regina wasn't too far away from where they'd stopped. She seemed to just be standing there, wringing her hands together and glancing around the jungle.

"Hey," Emma said warily, wondering why Regina hadn't followed them. "You're falling behind. Killian says it's not much further."

"We don't even know if she's still here," Regina told her. "You go waste your time searching. I'll wait."

Emma frowned at her. She'd been suspicious before, but Regina's reluctance to help confirmed it. "What did you do to her?"

"What?" Regina asked quickly. "Why would you assume I did something?"

"You've met her before, right?" Emma stated. "In the Enchanted Forest. What did you do? Kill her brother? Steal her halo?"

"She's not an angel," Regina scoffed, but her exasperation quickly faded away into what looked like shame. "Okay, we have a complicated history. You don't need to know all the details. Just that, if she sees me, she won't help. It's already my fault Henry's here. If Hook really thinks this plan will work, then I can't get in the way."

"Your fault?" Emma repeated, narrowing her eyes at the other woman as she tried to figure out what she meant. "How did you reach that conclusion?"

"Owen would never have kept searching for Storybrooke if I hadn't-"

"Owen?"

"Greg," Regina corrected. "He came back for me, because of what I did. Now my son is the one in trouble and we can't get help because I... Greg and Tamara wouldn't have come to Storybrooke if it wasn't for me. If they hadn't come, Pan's shadow wouldn't have come for Henry and we wouldn't be here. Henry would be safe."

"Okay, I don't know what happened with you and Tinkerbell," Emma replied carefully. "And yeah, maybe Greg wouldn't have come to Storybrooke if you hadn't done what you did. But it doesn't mean it's your fault. We don't even know why Tamara was involved. For all we know, this would have happened with or without Greg. Tamara might have always found Storybrooke, or Pan might have always found a way to get Henry. I'm not saying that a lot of what happened _wasn't_ to do with you, because some of it probably was, but what happened to Henry wasn't. You can't blame yourself for that."

Regina shook her head, a bitter chuckle escaping her lips. Whatever conversation Emma had expected to have when she went to search for Regina, it hadn't been this. Only a couple of days before, Regina had been willing to kill the entire town instead of dealing with the consequences of what she'd done, so the guilt was unexpected.

"It doesn't matter if it's my fault or not," Regina admitted quietly. "We need to save Henry, and if Tinkerbell is the way to do that, I can't get in the way. That's what's best for Operation Henry."

"Operation Henry?"

Regina looked away from her. "That's what I've been calling it in my head because-"

"That's what Henry would call it."

"He'd have a better name," Regina muttered. "But, it's the best I can do."

Emma smiled kindly, the first smile she'd ever shared with Regina. "We'll go get her and then I'll come get you."

"No, don't bother," Regina ordered. "I said I can't get in the way. It's better if we never see one another. And if you don't find her, keep going. Just get Henry. Don't waste time coming back for me."

"Regina, we said we were doing this together," Emma pointed out. "We need you in this. We're not leaving you behind. We could meet somewhere. If Neal stays with you and Killian comes with us, then we'll both be with someone who knows the island."

"I can't risk it. What if you do find her and then we meet up and she refuses to help?"

"What the hell did you do to her?"

Regina sighed and shook her head. "What I always do."

It didn't look like Regina was going to change her mind, so Emma nodded and left her behind. The others had barely moved when she returned to them. Neal and Mary-Margaret were talking, but Killian was in exactly the same place as he'd been when she left them, his arms folded and his gaze locked on David.

"You didn't find her?" Mary-Margaret asked. "Do you think Pan's got her?"

"No, I did," Emma reassured her. "It just turns out that we might have a _slight_ problem. Regina's not coming with us. We're going to keep going without her."

"We can't leave her behind."

"It's what she wants," Emma insisted. "We're sticking to the plan. We find Tink and then we keep going."

"Okay," Mary-Margaret agreed. "I just wanted to check you knew what you were doing. If you'd rather change plans, we're behind you. No matter what."

"We really should have made sure our plan included what to do when we run into someone Regina's upset," David mumbled. "They aren't exactly hard to find."

"She's trying to do the right thing, David," Emma told him, ignoring his raised eyebrows. "I doubt Regina wants to be waiting around, by herself, in Neverland. Whatever she did to Tinkerbell, at least she's owning up to it and making sure she doesn't jeopardise our attempt to save our son."

She didn't wait for David to reply. She strode past him, past Neal and Mary-Margaret, taking Killian's hook in her hand and tugging him after her as she continued deeper into the Dark Jungle.

~~~*~~~

Killian hadn't been wrong about them being near Tinkerbell's home. Time was difficult to gauge without the sun, but it didn't feel like they'd been walking for too long when they reached the small treehouse.

"It's a bit less… sparkly than I was expecting," Emma muttered, smiling slightly at Neal's chuckle. "I was imagining something leafy. Maybe with a few flowers and some glitter."

"Glitter's surprisingly hard to get hold of in Neverland," Neal joked. "Wood's a bit easier to find."

Killian sighed, extricated his hook from her grip and then crossed the small clearing to the rope ladder. David followed him, and once Killian called down that there was no one home, Emma and the others climbed up after them.

When she reached the top of the ladder, Neal offered her his hand and helped her step up into the treehouse. She didn't really know what to do once she was standing there, so she glanced uncertainly around the small, sparse room. Neal looked equally unsure, his hands buried in his pockets, and after shuffling awkwardly from side to side, he seemed to decide that the best plan was to stare out the window.

Unlike Neal, Killian and David appeared unable to stay still. If Emma wasn't pretty sure that Tinkerbell _wasn't_ fairy-sized, she'd have assumed they were checking under the furniture for her.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"Pixie dust, remember?" David told her. "Killian said she might have some."

She doubted that Tinkerbell kept her pixie dust under the cushions, but she stayed quiet. Instead, she joined Neal at the window, although instead of looking out at the jungle, she watched David and Killian ransack the treehouse.

"It's pretty bare," Emma commented, just as Mary-Margaret finally joined them. "It reminds me of somewhere. Oh yeah, where I used to live. That's it."

"Kind of like those motel rooms we used to sneak into?" Neal questioned. "With the empty walls and grey carpets?"

"It's just a place to sleep," Mary-Margaret muttered. "Decorations aren't important when you're not sure how long you can stay."

She hadn't expected Mary-Margaret to understand. Emma couldn't imagine that being raised in a palace allowed her to sympathise. "What would you know about that?"

"I didn't always have a canopy bed in a palace," Mary-Margaret told her. "I had a place like this, too."

"You did?"

"A tree stump. When I was running from the Queen," she continued. Emma raised her eyebrows. She'd never really considered what it must have been like for Snow White, and it didn't help that she'd only ever skimmed through Henry's storybook. Other than the Charles and Leia subplot, and the short story about the Mad Hatter, she'd never even tried to really read it. "Believe it or not, I understand this Tinkerbell."

This Mary-Margaret was someone Emma could talk to. She still wasn't the same woman Emma had originally befriended, but Emma was starting to accept that breaking the curse had taken her away. She hadn't realised they had something in common, and she liked that knowledge much more than she ever enjoyed talks of palaces and balls and fairytales.

"Me too," Emma murmured. "And that's not something I ever thought I'd say."

Mary-Margaret sighed, wringing her hands together and gazing around the wooden room. "I wish you never had to live like this," She admitted quietly. "I wish you could have had something better. I wish I could have… Never mind."

She hadn't mentioned a palace, but Emma was certain that if she'd continued, palaces would have come up. It didn't annoy her as much as she'd thought it would, not after their conversation a few hours earlier. Maybe Killian was right, maybe both of them were stubborn.

And maybe Emma could make Mary-Margaret feel a little bit better.

"The loft's nice," she whispered. "It's the nicest place I've ever lived in. I wouldn't have had that if it wasn't for you."

Mary-Margaret stared at her, clearly surprised. Emma didn't want to wait for a response, so she wandered away from her and Neal, joining Killian as he rifled through Tinkerbell's few belongings.

"Killian, I don't think there's any pixie dust here," she told him. He cursed, knocking a clay bowl off the shelf so that it shattered on the wooden floor. "Killian! What the hell is going on?"

"Why doesn't she have any?" Killian asked, ignoring the incredulous stares from the others. "She should have some. She always had some."

"It doesn't matter, right? You said it would make things easier," Emma murmured, catching hold of his hand before he could push over another of Tinkerbell's things. "I didn't think we needed it. It'll all be okay, Killian."

"No, Emma, it…" he trailed off, glancing past her and then shaking his head, taking in a deep breath. "I wanted things to be easy. I wanted to make sure everything would be alright."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Guys, I've found something," David shouted, just as Killian seemed about to answer. "It's a handkerchief."

"That's Regina's," Mary-Margaret pointed out, hurrying over to take the fabric from David and then tracing her finger over the monogrammed 'R.M'. "How did it get here?"

"Crap," Emma muttered, snatching the muddied handkerchief from her mother's hand. "She's been tracking us. Watching Regina."

"But if she's been watching her-"

"We're in the wrong place." Killian stated. "We need to find Regina."

"It's Tinkerbell," Emma protested, although she was hurrying the others down the ladder. "Whatever Regina did to her, surely things can't get too bad."

"First time I met her, she seemed rather comfortable with the idea of slitting my throat," Killian stated, and, mirroring their ascent into the treehouse, this time it was Killian offering his hand to her once she stopped climbing. "And she'd never met me. I'd loathe to think about what she might be willing to do to someone who potentially ruined her life."

"We don't know what Regina did."

"She's hiding away in the jungle, Emma," David reminded her. "It can't have been good."

~~~*~~~

"Finding Tinkerbell has to be our priority," Emma ordered, as they hurried back through the woods to where she'd left Regina. "She's after Regina, but if we find the fairy before she gets to Regina, we're done. She's who we need to find Henry."

She heard a few mumbled assents, Mary-Margaret's response a bit more reluctant than the others. Luckily, they hadn't been too far from Tinkerbell's treehouse when they took their last break so it didn't take too long for them to reach the spot where Emma had left Regina.

"So either Regina's decided to take a walk or Tink found her first," Neal muttered. "That's probably not good."

"It's definitely not good," Mary-Margaret corrected, pushing past Neal and crouching down to the ground. "But Tinkerbell isn't the only one who can track people through a forest."

"You?"

"You don't live in the woods by yourself for a few years without picking up a few things," Mary-Margaret explained. "There doesn't seem to be any footprints but if we looked for displaced dirt, overturned leaves or-"

"Twisted grass?" Neal finished. "I never got very good, but I lived in the woods for a very long time too."

"Yeah, that too," Mary-Margaret agreed, sharing an approving smile with Neal. "But it's always difficult. One broken twig or bent leaf doesn't mean that we can be certain Tinkerbell and Regina went that way, but it's better than nothing."

Neal and Mary-Margaret started carefully examining the ground, Emma and the others standing back as they searched for any signs of where Regina had gone. Emma kept watching them, captivated by the methodical way they were combing over the ground. It was something she could never have imagined Mary-Margaret doing, at least before the curse broke. Emma had spent several years learning how to track people, but she'd never learnt how to hunt down anything the way Mary-Margaret and Neal were.

"It looks like they might have gone this way," Mary-Margaret said eventually, as she ran her finger along a snapped twig lying on the ground. "The dirt looks like someone might have walked through it. Is there anything in that direction?"

Neal stood up, glancing slowly around them. Emma didn't know what he was looking for. To her, every direction looked exactly the same. "Yeah, there's a cave a couple hundred metres away."

"We should check there," Mary-Margaret commanded. "Neal, you know the way?"

"Yeah."

He led them through a dense thicket of ferns, ducking under a fallen tree and then jumping over a narrow stream before leading them up a steep hill and to the left. Wherever he'd led them seemed even darker than the rest of the jungle had been, but maybe that was just because a cliff face was looming over her.

"Here?" Emma asked. She didn't need an answer, because the moment Neal started towards the cave, a small woman walked out of it. "Tinkerbell?"

Emma raised her sword, hearing the others draw their own weapons behind her. The woman took a wary step back. "Who the hell are you?"

"A pissed off mother." Emma answered. "I've been looking for you. We need your help."

"Where's Regina?" Mary-Margaret demanded. "We know you were tracking her."

"I'm fine." Regina wandered out of the cave, stopping at Tinkerbell's side instead of crossing over to join them.

"Do you mind lowering those?" Tinkerbell asked, gesturing at their weapons. "You might stick me, but I'll take some of you down first."

"It's okay. She's not going to hurt us," Regina told her, speaking loudly over Killian's chuckles. "Just stand down."

"I know she won't hurt us," Killian stated, and Emma glanced over her shoulder to see that he was lowering his sword. "But is she going to help us?"

Tinkerbell looked Killian up and down, a smirk dancing on her lips. Emma stabbed her sword into the ground angrily, leaving it standing upright at her side, and then folded her arms across her chest, scowling at the fairy. "Well, look who the queen dragged in. Hello, Hook."

"Lady Bell."

"Hey, Tink," Neal muttered. "You probably don't recognise me, but, um, it's Baelfire."

Tinkerbell's annoyingly flirtatious smirk faded away and she gaped at Neal. "Bae?" she breathed. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't, to be honest," Neal admitted. "I didn't exactly plan on ever coming back here. But Pan has my son, so-"

"I'm sorry," Tinkerbell said sincerely. "But-"

"She's not going to help us," Regina interrupted.

Emma grimaced, taking Tinkerbell's silence as confirmation that Regina was telling the truth. "Why not?"

"Tink, after all we've been through together," Killian muttered smoothly, and Emma rolled her eyes at the smolder he was sending towards the fairy. "A little assistance?"

"She doesn't have any magic," Regina informed them, not letting Tinkerbell reply. "Whatever you were expecting her to do, she can't do it."

"If the plan involved magic, we wouldn't have suggested Tinkerbell."

"You knew?" Regina muttered, glancing between Killian and Tinkerbell with a dawning understanding that Emma wanted to wipe off her face. "She doesn't even have her wings."

"How?" Emma asked. "Can that just happen?"

"I guess people stopped believing in me," Tinkerbell said bluntly. "And even if I could have helped you, Pan's too powerful."

"So, you don't even have any pixie dust?" David checked. "None?"

"No."

"Really?" Killian questioned, his voice strangely desperate. "Come on, Tink, you collect it for Pan."

"I used to," Tinkerbell told him. "Until it ran out. I had to give Pan every grain I had just to get him to leave me alone. I don't have any, and if I did, I wouldn't be giving it to you."

"Ran out?" Emma looked at Killian again, her frown deepening at the confusion on his face. "Tink, what's going on? There's no pixie dust. It's always night. What's happening here?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I just know to stay out of Pan's way."

"So you know where he is?" Mary-Margaret asked. "It's easier to avoid someone when you know where they are."

"Of course I do. But it won't do you a bit of good."

"Let us be the judge of that."

Tinkerbell seemed less certain of her answer, shifting her weight from side to side, and Emma took a step forward, ready to make one last push for her help. She felt Killian step up behind her, his hand resting at the small of her back, and even though she knew it wasn't the time, Emma felt slightly smug when Tinkerbell glanced quickly between the two of them.

"Can you just get us inside his camp and back out?" Emma asked. "That's all we need."

"Maybe," Tinkerbell replied. "But why should I help you?"

"Because we believe in you." Mary-Margaret said earnestly.

Tinkerbell swallowed and looked away, blinking down at the ground. "Just get us inside," Emma repeated. "We'll take care of things from there."

The fairy swallowed again and she seemed to come to a decision, meeting Emma's gaze once again. "And what's in it for me?" she demanded. "Other than a death sentence from Pan when you're gone with your boy?"

"You can come with us," Emma suggested impulsively, glancing quickly over at Killian to see if he agreed. He was smiling, so she assumed he agreed. "Wouldn't you want that?"

"Something bad is happening on this island, Tink. You know that," Killian reminded her. "If I were you, I'd take this deal. I'd get out of here."

"And you'll get a home," Mary-Margaret added. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Tinkerbell inhaled deeply. "Okay. Listen closely," she told them. "I can get in. Pan will let me in. And maybe, just maybe, I'll leave a way open for you. But you only get one shot, so you better have a good plan. I'm not risking anything until I know you can get me out of here."

~~~*~~~

Tinkerbell accompanied them through the jungle until they reached another clearing. It didn't take them long to set up camp, and after Emma had unrolled her blanket beside Killian's, he immediately volunteered to go and fetch some coconuts. Before Emma could offer to go with him, he asked David to help and soon, the two of them had wandered away.

Emma knew that Killian and David had occasionally gotten drinks together before the curse broke, but after the week before, she had to admit that she would have preferred Killian to have chosen another time to start hanging out with David. She'd missed him so much when he'd lost his memories, and their few private conversations in Neverland weren't enough for her.

She wanted more time with only him, but Killian seemed to want otherwise.

Emma gripped Killian's coin tightly. Despite the closeness they'd shared since Emma revealed the map, Killian had been quiet for most of the day, and after she'd seen his temper at Tinkerbell's treehouse, she couldn't help but worry that something wasn't right.

"Hey, Ems?"

She glanced up at the nickname, her eyebrows creasing together when Neal crouched beside her. He'd finished lighting the fire, the small campfire blazing behind him. She didn't reply, but instead of walking away to try and talk to someone else, Neal remained at her side.

He was watching her, his fingers tapping irritatingly against his thigh, and after a few more minutes of his stare, Emma sighed loudly. "What is it? You keep looking at me."

"I've been wanting to talk to you," Neal admitted, and he suddenly seemed unable to meet her gaze. "Since we left Storybrooke, I've been thinking-"

"About me?"

"About Tamara," Neal corrected. "And you. I wanted to say sorry."

"Sorry?" she repeated, staring at him in surprise. "I didn't think I'd ever be hearing that from you."

Neal swallowed. "If all this craziness hadn't happened, I don't know if I'd have… It's just that if I say sorry, then I did something wrong. I loved you, you know? I just wanted to believe that I'd done the right thing when I listened to August and I think that I convinced myself that if it was the right thing, you'd be okay."

"And you've suddenly had an epiphany?" she asked bitterly. "You realised that maybe sending me to prison might actually be worth an apology?"

"It's not so sudden," Neal mumbled. "I love Tamara… _loved_ Tamara. She lied to me and she shot me and I think she really believed she was doing the right thing. That shooting me was worth it if it meant getting rid of magic. But knowing that doesn't matter. It still hurts. It makes it worse because I can't understand how she could think that."

"So?"

"That's what I did to you." Neal stared at the ground, fidgeting under Emma's shocked stare. "Why I did it doesn't matter. It was still a really crappy thing to do, and telling myself it was the right decision doesn't make it better. Not for you."

She didn't know what to say. She'd never expected to hear anything even close to an apology from Neal, and although she was grateful to hear him say sorry, she would have appreciated it more if it hadn't taken Tamara betraying him for him to realise it was needed.

"I don't know if being shot and instantly healed by your magic father is as bad as being left pregnant and in prison for eleven months, but thanks," Emma muttered. "It's good to hear an apology."

"I didn't know you were… right, yeah, sorry," Neal stammered. "I get that. I'm not expecting this to fix everything. I don't think an apology from Tamara would really make things better, but it would be nice to hear one. I figured I could at least give you that."

"Fix things?" Emma repeated. "We're not… You know we won't get back together, right?"

"Emma, I was engaged two days ago," he pointed out. "And I've seen you with Hook. I know that. But we have a son together and… I don't really remember my mother, but I remember her and Papa fighting. I remember what it was like with just my Papa, and I guess Henry already has two parents, but he deserves more than what I had. I just want us to be okay. For him."

She stared at him. Of all the things Neal could have said, he'd managed to find exactly the right thing to say. "Okay," she agreed. "I want the same. I just want Henry to be happy and having you around, that'll do it. I never really thought I'd say this, but I'm glad you're here. Without you and Killian, I don't know if we'd be able to get him back."

They shared a smile, and then Neal looked over her shoulder, his smile fading slightly. "Hook," he stated. "I'll, uh, leave you two alone."

He stood up, clapping Emma on the shoulder in farewell before retreating to the other side of the clearing.

Killian took the space Neal had just vacated, reclining back so that he was leaning against the nearest tree. Emma glanced over him, scowling at the blankness of his expression. She wondered if he was trying to stop her from knowing what he was thinking, although she didn't like that thought.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, something she felt like she'd already asked him several times that day. "You and David seem to be talking a lot."

"Why, Swan?" he answered, as he used his hook to tap a hole into the top of a coconut. "Scared your boyfriend and your father are getting along?"

"No," she stated, taking the offered fruit from him. "But I'm a bit annoyed that my boyfriend seems to be avoiding the question. Something isn't right."

Killian's jaw clenched, and for a quick second, he glanced away from her. "Everything's fine."

Emma doubted that she would have missed that lie even without the telltale twinge shocking through her. They'd never said as much out loud, but Emma had assumed that after everything they'd done to each other, after the curse, after leaving him up the beanstalk, they wouldn't lie. Not to each other.

"It's not," Emma hissed, wanting to keep their conversation unheard. "You know I know it's not. I can feel it."

"Emma…" he sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry, but this isn't something I can tell you yet."

"Yet?" she repeated. "So you _will_ tell me one day? We're back to doing this again? I thought, after the curse broke, that we'd never have to-"

"It's not as though I'm enjoying this," he whispered. "I really am sorry."

There was a tremor in his voice and Emma stared at him. She'd been worried before, but he couldn't meet her gaze, couldn't stop fidgeting, and she was suddenly struck with the realisation that maybe it was something really bad he was refusing to tell her.

If it really was that bad, she desperately wanted to know.

She quickly glanced across the clearing to David, but there was nothing about him that suggested there was anything wrong. He was lying with Mary-Margaret, his arms around her, her head resting against his chest.

"You really can't tell me?" she checked, and at Killian's nod, she let out a loud huff. "Well, thanks for the coconut, I guess."

He put his arm around her but Emma didn't move closer. She didn't want to.


	45. Chapter 45

** Chapter 45 **

When Emma woke, it was impossible to tell how long she'd slept for. The canopy of the Dark Jungle was as black as it had been when she finally managed to nod off and for all she knew, she'd not even managed a few hours of sleep.

She was getting used to being exhausted.

It seemed pointless to try and get back to sleep, so she just lay there. She could hear the Lost Boys crying again, although she wished she couldn't. It was difficult to ignore them, but when she focused on Killian's light snores from just a few feet away from her, the crying seemed slightly quieter.

Emma had refused to sleep close to Killian, annoyed by the way he was keeping things from her, but maybe she would have slept better if she'd let him hold her anyway.

She couldn't just wait for the others to wake up. Pan had Henry, and maybe the others seemed able to push aside and sleep through the night, but she wasn't going to lie there when they could all be awake and doing something.

She rolled onto her side, reaching out to nudge Killian awake except he was just a few inches too far away. After a heavy sigh, she wriggled closer, just near enough so that she could hit his shoulder gently, and he startled awake.

"Swan?" he mumbled sleepily, turning so that he was facing her. "What is it?"

Emma didn't answer. Instead, she clambered to her feet and started to noisily pack her blanket away into one of the backpacks. She heard Killian exhale loudly, and then he stood up and began to tidy away his own blanket.

They were clearly loud enough to wake the others because soon the rest of the group were stretching and groaning into awareness.

"Is it morning?" Mary-Margaret asked tiredly. "Already?"

"I don't know. Maybe," Emma told her. "If there's no time, do mornings still exist?"

"Morning or not, I have not had enough sleep for that sort of question," Neal grumbled. "God, Emma, how are you already awake?"

Emma shrugged, deciding not to mention the fact that she could barely remember the last time she'd gotten more than a few hours sleep. "I think Henry's a bit more important than sleep, don't you?" She ignored Killian's visible concern and turned to Tinkerbell. "Now, can you tell us how to get to Henry?"

Tinkerbell nodded, and then she grabbed a stick and started to draw in the dirt. Emma frowned, watching her as she worked, and soon there was a large outline of Neverland on the ground.

"Pan's compound is here," Tinkerbell told them, marking an X on the south-east corner of the map. "Pan has some of the Lost Boys acting as sentries at the front entrance. You won't be able to get past them."

"So we go in the back?"

Tinkerbell nodded, adding an arrow to the map showing the way they'd need to approach. "I'll negotiate my way in and make sure the coast is clear. You can sneak in after that, but it'll be up to you to deal with any more Lost Boys."

"I'm sure we can manage that," Regina stated. "I think we can handle a few children with pointy sticks."

"It's not the sticks you have to worry about," Tinkerbell reminded her. "It's the poison they're dipped in."

"Dreamshade," Mary-Margaret muttered. "Hook warned us."

"Good. Because one nick, and you'll spend the last of-"

"Poison sticks equal death," David interrupted sharply. "We got it. Now when can we put this rescue mission into action?"

"I'm ready to go," Tinkerbell told them. "Just as soon as you tell me the exit plan. You _do_ have an escape plan, don't you?"

"It's... more of a last-minute trip," Mary-Margaret admitted.

Tinkerbell looked expectantly at Emma, as though she had a different answer, but all Emma did was gape at her. She had never thought about how they'd escape Neverland. She'd been too focused on getting there and reaching her son, and she turned around to look pleadingly at Killian, hoping he would reply to Tinkerbell's question with a well-thought out plan.

"If you don't have a way off this island, then none of this matters."

"We'll get off this island," Killian assured her, only briefly glancing at Tinkerbell before he directed his promise to Emma. "We'll get back to Storybrooke."

Tinkerbell stared at him in surprise. "Really? How? I'm not sticking my neck on Pan's chopping block without a way off this island."

"The same way you left Neverland last time, right?" David asked. "That's how we'll get back?"

"I left the island on my ship, which requires either enough magic to open a portal or enough pixie dust to get it in the air," Killian told them. "Last time, I got that from Pan in a deal I don't intend to repeat."

"Not that he'd offer it," Tinkerbell muttered, and Killian chuckled in agreement. "That doesn't actually sound like an escape plan to me."

"What it _sounds_ like is that no one's ever left the island without Pan's permission," Regina stated.

"One man has," Killian announced. He looked over at Neal, and although Emma had known that they had spent time together before, it was the first time that it really struck her what that meant. For a while, Emma wasn't certain how long, Neal had been like a son to Killian. Despite knowing that things hadn't ended well, the proud smile on Killian's face made it clear that some of those feelings were still there. "Bae escaped."

"How?"

"The shadow," Neal answered. "It can fly. It's what took me to this land in the first place and it's how I got out. If we take control of the shadow, we can get out of Neverland."

"The shadow?" Tinkerbell asked doubtfully. "The same monster that can rip _your_ shadow from your body and kill you? How do you take control of it?"

"Pan's shadow isn't always with him. We go to Dark Hollow, we can catch it," Neal stated, and Emma felt uneasy at the grimaces on both Killian and Tinkerbell's faces. "Once we have it, I think we'll be able to use it to lift the Jolly Roger so we can fly home."

"How the hell do you catch a shadow?" Emma asked, her question echoed by David. "That sounds… well, crazy."

"It took me about fifty years to figure it out, but I've got this coconut back-"

"A coconut?" David interrupted. "What?"

"Whatever it is you have, I'm not risking _anything_ until I know I can get away from here," Tinkerbell told them. "When you figure that out, you know where I live."

She dropped the stick and marched out of the clearing. If the name 'Dark Hollow' hadn't been already daunting enough, Tinkerbell's reaction to Neal's plan didn't exactly inspire confidence. Not that they had any other option.

Pan certainly wasn't going to give them a way back.

"Where's she going?" Mary-Margaret asked, starting after the fairy. "Isn't she going to-?"

"She's right," Emma told her, catching Mary-Margaret by the arm to stop her in her tracks. "We can't ask her to risk her life to help us. Not if we can't guarantee a safe way out. Neal, what's the plan?"

"Right, yeah, well, I spent ages trying to find out how to capture Pan's shadow. I used a coconut shell to catch it," he continued, his voice quieting when everyone seemed equally dubious at the mention of an apparently magical coconut. "Look, long story short, it got me back to the other realm. I made a couple, so if we can get to my old cave, we should be able to find one we can use. If the place hasn't been ransacked by Pan."

"Is that a possibility?" David wondered. "That Pan's taken it?"

"I don't know. I was very careful to keep its exact location from him, but I'm pretty sure you can't do much in this place without Pan knowing about it," Neal admitted. "But even if he knows where it is, hopefully, he just thinks it's a normal coconut."

"So where do we go?" Emma asked. "How far away is it?"

Killian picked up Tinkerbell's discarded stick and drew a cross close to the top of the island. "We're here," he told her. "Dark Hollow's in the south, and Bae's cave is over here."

He added another two crosses to the map. The first one, marking Dark Hollow, was on the southern tip of the map, and the second, Neal's cave, lay near the eastern coast.

"How do you know where my cave is?" Neal asked quietly before Killian could finish his answer.

Killian looked up, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. "I may have kept an eye on you occasionally. Whatever happened between us, Milah would have wanted you to be safe. As safe as you could have been after what I… I made sure I knew where you were." He took a deep breath, his nose turning the adorable light pink it always did when he was embarrassed, and then he shook his head. "Anyway, from here to Bae's cave, I'd say it's a few hours walk without breaks. From there to Dark Hollow, another five or so."

"So we should get a move on," Emma decided.

Killian nodded, using the stick to erase any traces of their map from the ground as Neal heaved one of the backpacks over his shoulders and started wandering into the jungle. The others followed after him, but Emma remained with Killian as he finished clearing the camp. She'd found her annoyance at him fading as he spoke with Neal, and maybe he wasn't ready to tell her about what had upset him, but she'd realised that she would rather be there for him than be irritated.

"Shall we go?" he asked. "I'd rather David not get too far ahead. I need a word with him."

"Right. Of course, it's David you want to talk to," Emma muttered, taken aback by his immediate dismissal. "Sure. I mean, _I_ wanted to talk to you because it looks like there's more between you and Neal than the few things you told me. I was going to ask, but I guess I probably know the answer. You'll tell me someday, right?"

Killian drew his head back, his mouth open in shock, but Emma didn't bother to apologise. If he didn't _want_ to talk to her, she wasn't going to waste his time.

She turned and stormed off after the others, and it took a few seconds before Killian seemed to realise he'd been left alone. She could hear him hurrying after her, and when the two of them rejoined the others, he seemed angry when he grabbed David's arm and held him back.

"We're talking," she heard him hiss. "Now."

~~~*~~~

Neal stayed at the front of the group as they travelled towards his cave, and after Emma had looked over her shoulder several times to see that David and Killian were still exchanging angry whispers, she'd decided to walk with Neal.

She couldn't help but wonder what it had been like for him during the lifetimes he'd spent in Neverland. Killian had, at least, had a crew with him, but from what Neal and Killian had said since they left Storybrooke, Emma was certain that Neal had spent the centuries alone.

Twenty-eight years alone had been painful enough. She couldn't imagine what two hundred years would be like.

"So, how did you end up in Neverland?" she asked when they'd been walking together for several minutes. "You said the _shadow_ brought you here?"

"Yeah," he told her. "You know the Disney film? I kind of lived the start of it. You know, with the Darlings and the dog?"

"I'm sorry, the _Darlings_?"

"They took me in soon after I got to this land," Neal admitted. "I refused to let magic ruin everything for them the way it had done for me, and when the shadow came for George and Michael, I made it take me instead. And then I ended up here."

It was a struggle to get her head around Neal's admittance. His past somehow seemed crazier than everyone else's, maybe because she'd know him before Henry dragged her into a life full of storybook characters. "And then you met Killian?"

Neal glanced over his shoulder at the pirate and then he nodded. "He fished me out of the sea and, when the Lost Boys came for me, he hid me below the crew's quarters and told them he hadn't found me."

"You said he gave you to them," Emma pointed out. "You never said he protected you."

"He only protected me because he knew I was the Dark One's son," Neal said bitterly. "If I had been anyone else, he'd have handed me straight over. Anything to get on Pan's good side."

"So what? He found out what he needed for his revenge and he just gave you to them?" Emma asked. She was well aware that Killian had been willing to do anything to get his vengeance, he'd told her as much, but it was off-putting to hear Neal state it so bluntly.

For a few seconds, Neal didn't answer and then he shrugged. "Not straight away."

"How long were you with him?"

"A while," Neal muttered. "Long enough that I didn't see it coming."

"He mentioned you, you know?" Emma ignored Neal's surprised glance, her eyebrows furrowed as she remembered the evening she'd spent on Killian's deck when they'd eaten takeout from Granny's and he'd showed her the stars. The memories brought a soft smile to her lips, distracting her for a few heartbeats.

She didn't think she'd ever stop being flustered at the thought of how she'd let him press her against the mast, his kisses hot against her neck, her shoulders as he loved her.

"When?"

"Oh, um, a few weeks ago," Emma continued, trying to hide the fact that she'd been preoccupied with thoughts of Killian. "I asked him about the letters he has written above the wheel. He couldn't say much, not when I didn't believe in the curse, but he said you didn't see eye to eye and that you chose to leave."

Neal gaped at her, swallowing when Emma fixed him with an expectant stare. Killian hadn't told her much, but when he had, none of it had rung false, and Emma wanted to reconcile those truths with what Neal was saying. "Well, he wasn't lying," he admitted. "I found a drawing of my mother, and Papa had told me that it was a pirate who killed her. He wanted me to stay and I just wanted to get the hell of his ship."

"So he gave you to the Lost Boys _after_ you chose to leave?"

"Don't ask that as though it makes it okay," Neal hissed. Emma shook her head because she hadn't meant it like that. She just wanted to understand what had happened, because the last couple of days had made it clear that, whatever their past, Killian cared for Neal. "If I was going to leave, he was going to make sure he got something out of it. He didn't care what that meant for me."

Emma remained quiet after that, busying herself with clumsily chopping ferns and branches aside as they continued towards the east. She had to wonder what sort of reaction Neal had expected because her silence didn't seem to be it, but she didn't know what to say. Whatever Killian had done centuries earlier, even decades earlier, it wouldn't stop her loving him.

It was after they reached another ridge, one that looked exactly the same as every other ridge that they had passed, that Emma spoke again. "What did you do when you were here? We've only been here a couple of days and I already feel like I've seen everything there is on this island."

"Yeah, once you've seen one plant, you've seen them all, right?" Neal agreed. "I don't even know, to be honest. I kind of lost track of time after a while. I wasn't the boy Pan was looking for so after Felix took me, I was just kept with the other new Lost Boys. Hook had taught me enough with a sword, so when they gave me one, I was able to get away from them. I found my cave, figured out how to get food and then I tried to find a way off the island and back to the Darlings."

"But it took too long?"

Neal grimaced and looked away. "Yeah, yeah, it did. I figured they'd probably forgotten about me and once I thought that it kind of didn't seem worth trying anymore. I guess after that, it was just about surviving."

"You got out, though," Emma stated. "Why did you try again?"

"I couldn't be here forever."

That was something she could understand. She definitely wouldn't want to stay in Neverland any longer than she had to.

"Swan?" She froze mid-step, turning to see that Killian had abandoned her father and caught up with them. "Dave wants a word if that's alright?"

"Well, I'm already talking to someone," Emma stated, tilting her head towards Neal. "And if David really wants to speak to me, I'm sure he can tell me that himself. Whatever he wants to say, I'm sure he'd prefer to say it to you."

"I doubt it," Killian snapped back, but when Emma looked past him, to Dave, she just received a small smile and absolutely no sign that he had anything he wanted to say.

At David's lack of reaction, she looked back to Killian and raised her eyebrows pointedly. "Yeah, he really wants to talk."

Killian's jaw clenched and he sent David a furious glare that Emma didn't understand. "Fine," Killian muttered. "Fine."

He looked between her and Neal, his lips pressed into a thin line, and then he retreated back to David and Mary-Margaret. She sighed loudly, clenching her hands into tight fists. She hadn't meant to lash out at him but it wasn't _David_ she wanted to talk to.

"Okay, what was _that_ about?" Neal asked after a few seconds.

Emma inhaled sharply. As soon as she had heard Killian speak, she'd forgotten Neal was standing right at her side, and as temperamental as she felt, the last thing she had wanted was for anyone else to know things weren't okay.

"Nothing," she answered sharply. "It's just… it's nothing."

"Right, sure, it's nothing," Neal chuckled, and Emma sent him an irritated glare. "So, Henry said the two of you have been together since the sheriff elections? He, uh, he talks about you a lot. Both of you."

She hadn't wanted him to keep talking, but as soon as he mentioned Henry, she had to listen.

"That was back in January," Emma stated, unable to keep herself from laughing. Henry had clearly decided they were a couple weeks before Emma had been willing to admit it to herself. "Killian and I… we weren't together then. It was actually Valentine's Day when we… and you are the last person who needs to hear this."

"Valentine's Day?" Neal repeated. "How romantic."

"Romantic? No. We're not… It was a coincidence, not a planned…" Emma trailed off. Their first sober kiss taking place on Valentine's Day _had_ been a coincidence, but she couldn't deny the romance when she remembered the way he'd knelt before her and told her every day had been meaningless before he met her. "Yeah, I guess it was."

"I doubt Neverland's the best place for romance."

"No, but it's not like…" Emma let out a bitter laugh. "It's not like it's ever been easy. At least here, he remembers me."

"He remembers you?" Realisation dawned on Neal's face, and he stared back over his shoulder at Killian. "Last week. That's why he wasn't around, right? Because he didn't remember you."

"Yeah."

"Wait," Neal said carefully. "You said he couldn't be with you last week because of my father. What did he do?"

Emma considered telling him _exactly_ what Rumplestiltskin had done, but she decided not to. As much as she despised Rumplestiltskin, Neal's relationship with his father was already strained and after what had happened with Tamara, he didn't need to know how Rumplestiltskin had pushed him across the town line and into the path of a speeding car driven by his fiancée's boyfriend.

She wouldn't even know how to start explaining that tactfully.

"It doesn't matter," she evaded. "All that matters is that he remembers now."

"You must have missed him," Neal muttered, shooting another glance at Killian. "I'd have thought, after all that, he'd be spending more time with you."

"Yeah," Emma agreed. "I guess I'd thought that too."

It was then that it hit her. As much as she wished Killian felt like he could tell her whatever it was she was hiding, she wasn't frustrated by that. What _did_ frustrate her was that he seemed happy to talk to David about it.

"But he's worth it?"

"What?" she asked, surprised that Neal was still talking. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that from everything Henry's told me and from what you've said, it sounds like it's been tough and…" Neal smiled uncomfortably, and Emma couldn't blame him. She hadn't planned on having this conversation with anyone, _especially_ not her ex. "You think it's worth it? All that, and you still want to be with him?"

"Of course, I do," Emma answered immediately, not even needing a second to consider it. "There's nothing that could-"

"Because you love him." Neal interrupted. Emma shouldn't have been surprised by his words, not when she had been there when Henry had told him they were true love, but she hadn't expected to hear it so frankly. She knew it was true, but it wasn't something she felt comfortable talking about. "Come on, Ems, you loved me once. I like to think I know what love looks like on you. Yeah, I've not seen you together much, but the way you look at him… I'm not an idiot."

She wondered if it was as obvious to everyone else, if people just needed to look at her to see what she felt. Emma didn't know if she wanted it to be. She wasn't ready for people to know, for her to be _that_ vulnerable.

Emma glanced over her shoulder, watching Killian as he walked with her parents and Regina. He looked miserable, his shoulders slumped and his eyes sad, and then she didn't care how obvious she was. She just wanted to cheer him up.

"Thanks, Neal," she muttered, ignoring his confused response, and after patting him on the arm, she left him at the front of the group and moved back towards the other. "Killian, can we talk?"

He glanced up at her, his frown fading a bit when he met her gaze. "Of course," he told her. "Unless David still needs to speak with you."

"No," David announced. His answer brought Killian's scowl back. "It wasn't anything important."

Despite his answer, David seemed reluctant to leave Killian and Emma alone, only leaving when Mary-Margaret took his hand and led him away. Regina moved after them, and then Emma and Killian slowed, ambling after the others.

"Swan?" he prompted, after they'd walked for several minutes without either of them speaking. "I know what you want to ask, and I'm sorry, but I still can't tell-"

"I know," Emma interrupted. "That's not what I wanted to talk about. Well, not really."

"Not really?"

"Look, if you can't tell me what's bothering you right now, then that's okay," Emma said carefully, stumbling over a few words. "I know I've been… touchy since last night and, God, this sort of conversation is not something I'm good at, but it's not because you can't tell me yet. I mean, I know there are things that aren't easy to talk about. It's just that, last week, I missed you _so_ much and…" She hesitated, her words catching in her throat, and she couldn't look at him, although she could feel his eyes on her. "It hurts that David is the one you're talking to."

She heard Killian inhale sharply, but she didn't look at him until she felt him take her hand. "So you're jealous?"

He was smirking, which would have annoyed her if she couldn't see the understanding in his gaze. "Okay, yeah, fine. I'm jealous. You're… Killian, you know you're important to me and if there's something wrong, I want you to be able to talk to me. Not David."

He took a deep breath, squeezed her hand, and then she felt him lean in and brush a gentle kiss to the side of her head. She let herself lean towards him, her eyes closing at the touch.

"I just need to know you're okay," she breathed. "Even if you can only tell me yes or no."

Killian kissed her hair again, and even though Emma felt a twinge of annoyance when he didn't give her an answer, she didn't let go of his hand.

~~~*~~~

If Killian and Neal hadn't been with them, Emma doubted they would have even spotted Neal's old cave. Without Killian's grip on her hand tightening and stopping her from moving on, she would have walked past the cliff wall without even noticing anything was different.

"This is it?" Emma asked. "Are we here?"

"Yeah," Neal answered, and then he brushed a few large leaves aside to reveal a rope tied up in several vines. It took a few minutes to unknot the rope and then, as he pulled at it, an entrance opened in the cliff face.

Although she had expected the cave to be camouflaged, she hadn't been prepared for a hideout with an actual secret door. "How did you set _this_ up?"

Neal shrugged. "I had a lot of time."

He didn't say anything further, gesturing for the rest of them to enter his old home. The cave was dark, and they all paused in the doorway to glance around the large cavern. They couldn't see much, the light from outside only enough to illuminate the first few metres of the space, but it looked at least as miserable as Tinkerbell's treehouse had been.

Neal pushed passed them, digging a lighter out from his jean pocket and moving easily around the room to set several torches aflame. It created a warm, yellow glow throughout the room, and Emma could suddenly see the entire cavern.

Unlike Tinkerbell's treehouse, it contained a surprising number of things. There was a table made from bamboo, holding coconut-shell bowls and clay pots and even a small stove, and a rocky ledge covered with what looked like a handmade mattress.

He'd definitely had a lot of time.

Neal didn't seem to want to spend long in the cave, immediately moving towards a small crate pushed against the back wall. "Look around," he told them, his voice rough. "See if there's anything you want to take with you. We don't want to have to come back here."

Killian released her hand, and she watched him as he strode straight across the cavern to look at the images chiselled into the walls. Emma was intrigued by the drawings too, and she soon found herself wandering around the edges of the cavern and glancing over the pictures.

The decorations changed when she reached the makeshift bed. Before, all the carvings had been doodles, but next to his bed, just peeking out from behind the mattress, she could see dozens of lines etched into the wall.

She heaved the mattress aside, her jaw dropping at the sheer number of tally marks, and then she reached out to trace her finger along the last indentation.

"What's this?" Mary-Margaret asked, and Emma turned to see that her parents had joined her by the bed.

"He was counting," Emma muttered. "Until here. He stopped."

"Because he got off the island."

"No," Emma stated. "No, he was here for centuries. This is… a couple of years at most."

"Then why would he-"

"Because he lost hope," Emma interrupted. "Neal told me that after a while, there didn't seem to be much point in trying to escape. And I know you don't understand that, but I do. I did the same thing every time I went to a new foster home. I counted days until counting seemed pointless."

She swallowed, remembering the thoughts she'd had during their first night on the island, about Henry thinking he was alone and abandoned. Although she'd told herself he wouldn't think that so quickly, the more time she spent in Neverland, she couldn't help but think that it was _so_ easy for the island to steal hope away.

Emma never wanted Henry to give up the way she and Neal had.

"You think the same things happening to Henry?" Mary-Margaret asked perceptively. Emma looked away for her mother in response, not wanting to admit it out loud. She felt David reach out to pat her shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, we're going to rescue him."

"Yeah, I know that," Emma snapped. "And _you_ know that, but Henry doesn't know that."

"So what, you want to send him a message?" It was Regina speaking, and Emma spun around to see that the mayor had joined them, her arms folded. "Because I haven't seen a Neverland post office."

"I just don't want him to think we're not coming for him."

"He won't," David assured her. "This is the same kid who spent months believing in a curse that no one else believed in. It's been a couple of days. That's not long enough for Henry to stop believing in you."

Emma sent him a tremulous smile. "Still, it would be nice to let him know for sure."

"Got it," Neal called out, drawing their attention away from the tally so he could show them two halves on a coconut, one half filled with small holes. At his exclamation, Killian finally stopped looking at an etching of a compass and returned to Emma's side. "We should get out of here."

"A colander?" Regina asked, rolling her eyes at Neal. "I'm sure that'll be a big help."

"No," Neal replied, fixing Regina with a withering stare. "It's a trap."

"A trap!" Mary-Margaret repeated excitedly, gripping at Emma's arm "Emma, I have an idea. You want to get a message to Henry, right? So we get a Lost Boy and we make them deliver one."

"What are we talking about?" Neal questioned hesitantly. "Trapping a Lost Boy? That's not a good idea, and even if you manage to catch one, they won't go against anything Pan wants."

"I know how to trap things, Neal," Mary-Margaret told him. "And surely it's worth trying if it might get a message to Henry. To your son."

Neal frowned, and then nodded. "Fine. You're right. But we can talk about it outside. I don't really want to stay in here any longer than I have to."

He shoved the coconut into his backpack before hurrying out of the cave. Regina followed him out, Mary-Margaret after her, already reciting a list of several things they'd need to catch a Lost Boy.

"Perhaps you and David would like to see if there are any ropes we could use," Killian suggested before they could go after them, gesturing towards the back of the cave. "I'm sure we'll need them."

"No, it's fine," David said quickly, and Emma gaped at him as he sped out of the cave.

"Okay, what was that about?" She asked, turning to look at Killian. His jaw was clenched and he was shaking his head angrily, staring after David. "I don't think he's moved that fast since we got here."

"I'm assuming he ran because he doesn't want to talk to you," Killian told her, his tone surprisingly bitter.

"What?" Emma said sharply, scowling at Killian. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Killian stared at her for a few seconds, and then he reached out to take her hand in his, raising it to his lips to brush a kiss to the back of her hand, his gaze on hers more somber than she'd expected. "Emma, sweetheart, I have to tell you what's going on."

"Why now?" Emma muttered warily. "A few hours ago, you weren't going to tell me anything and now-"

"A few hours ago, I was hoping Dave would tell you himself," Killian told her. "That's why I refused to tell you. It wasn't my story to tell, but I'd rather break my promise to Dave than hide something this important from you."

"Important?" Emma repeated, biting her lip at the misery clear on Killian's face. "Killian, what is it? Is everything alright? Is _David_ alright?"

Killian glanced away from her and she didn't need an answer. "No, Emma, he's not."

Emma pulled her hand away, gaping at him in horror. "What do you mean? What's wrong with him?"

"When we fought Pan and his Lost Boys, your father wasn't lucky enough to escape unscathed," Killian told her carefully. "It was just a small wound, but even the smallest amount of Dreamshade is enough to-"

"Dreamshade?" Emma asked. "The thing that you said we should stay away from? The 'one prick and you won't be around much longer' thing? No, no, you can't… That was yesterday. You made it sound like it worked faster than that and David still seems fine, so that _can't_ be…"

"I'm sorry," Killian whispered. "I wanted to believe otherwise but I've seen the wound. The Dreamshade is in his blood and I don't know how much longer he has."

Emma bit her lip, unable to accept the resignation in his voice. "Okay, so David's been poisoned. Isn't there something we can do? An antidote or something like that?"

"There is," Killian told her, and she sighed in relief. "There's a spring in the centre of Neverland. If David drinks from it, he'll be cured but-"

"So we go there and we get David to drink from it," Emma said quickly, because if there _was_ a cure, then there wasn't even a question about what to do. "I am _not_ watching another friend die, not if there's something I can do."

"If he drinks from that spring, Emma, he will never be able to leave Neverland," Killian warned her. "He'll survive, but he'll be trapped here. If he returns to Storybrooke, the Dreamshade _will_ poison him again."

Emma grimaced. Every time she thought she couldn't hate Neverland any more, something proved her wrong. "But it buys us time." Emma realised. "We can spend the rest of our time here trying to figure out a way to get David home safely, but we can't do that if he's already gone."

"Swan, we'd be condemning him to spend eternity here," Killian hissed. "And trust me, two hundred years were long enough."

"No, we won't," she insisted. "We'll figure something out."

"This isn't the first time I've dealt with Dreamshade poisoning," he told her. For a moment, something appeared in his expression, something even more solemn than the way he'd looked at her before telling her David was dying. "The first time I saw someone suffer its effects, the cure stopped working the moment we crashed back to our realm. Perhaps David will have some time in Storybrooke if we get him the cure soon, but without a connection to Neverland, he _will_ die."

This time, it was Emma who reached for Killian's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He had looked utterly distraught for a moment, at the mention of the person who'd died from Dreamshade, and then she'd watched as he quickly forced it away, his expression going blank.

Whatever it was that upset him, he clearly didn't want to think about it.

"Then we make sure there's a connection," Emma suggested. "We bring the water back with us."

"I don't know if that would work," Killian replied. "And even if it would, we can't fly back to Storybrooke with a lifetime's supply of water aboard the Jolly Roger."

"Well, it's worth bringing _some_ back with us," Emma pointed out desperately. "Like you said, you don't know if it will work, so what's the harm in trying? I watched Graham and August die and I am going to do whatever I can to make sure I don't lose David too. He's my _dad_ , Killian."

Killian might have been able to force his emotions aside, but Emma couldn't. She'd stopped trying to around Killian, and she couldn't hide the sob that wracked through her. Killian sighed, his empty expression changing into one of understanding, and then he pulled her close, releasing her hand so he could wrap his arms around her. She clung back, her hands clenching at the leather of his jacket, her face buried in his chest.

She felt him take in a deep breath, and then his arms loosened around her, Killian taking a step back. "I don't think David will agree to this, love," he told her quietly, grimacing when she looked at him in confusion. "One of the reasons he hasn't told anyone is that he doesn't want to distract you from saving Henry."

"Yeah, well, he won't be the one who has to tell Henry that his Grandpa's dead," Emma replied angrily, although her fury was directed at David and not at Killian. "Why don't we just go there anyway? If you lead us to the spring and _say_ we're on the way to Dark Hollow, that might work. David can't disagree if his only excuse is useless."

"Neal will question us long before we reach the spring," Killian pointed out. "Unless we tell everyone exactly why we're making a detour, we won't make it to the spring and if we _do_ tell, David will refuse to come. You're not the only stubborn one in the family."

Emma wasn't entirely sure she agreed with him. If they did tell everyone, Emma was certain Mary-Margaret would be just as insistent on taking David to the spring, but at the same time, it would be nice if they _could_ save David without Mary-Margaret knowing how close he'd come to death.

"So lie."

"What?"

"Tell David there's something at the spring that we need," Emma said slowly, trying to work out a plan even as she spoke. "You can take him there, save him and then bring him back to us."

Killian nodded thoughtfully, and then he released her from his embrace so that he could take something out of his jacket pocket. Emma glanced down at what he was holding, a small piece of leather decorated with what looked like a metal coin. He was running his thumb across the worn leather, and Emma couldn't help but wonder what it was.

"What's that?" she asked, nodding down at his hand.

"An idea," he replied. "I'll get David alone and I'll use this to persuade him to travel to the Peak with me."

"And me?" she prompted. "What am I going to do?"

"Stay with the others and get a message to Henry," Killian told her. "Perhaps, try and get some sleep?"

"Sleep?" she repeated. "Killian, I don't need sleep. We only left camp a few hours."

Killian raised an eyebrow, pocketing the leather so that he could cup her cheek in his hand, running his thumb gently over the rings under her eyes. "Yes, after you woke us all up following only a couple of hours of rest. You barely slept last night, Emma, and the night before that, we all woke to find you gone. And maybe I didn't have my memory last week, but I still remember how exhausted you were. _Sleep_."

"As if I can sleep right now."

"Please try," he murmured. "I won't let David die. I promise."

~~~*~~~

Emma wasn't sure exactly what sort of trap Mary-Margaret had planned, but she _did_ know it required a lot of rope. Neal had fetched all the rope from his old home and then they'd collected as many vines as they could. Emma had watched in amazement as Mary-Margaret and Neal quickly braided them together into thick strips of rope. Many vines didn't make much rope, though, and soon Mary-Margaret asked David to go and get some more. After exchanging a look with Killian, Emma had told him to help David out.

It didn't look like Emma would be much help, so she didn't feel too guilty about attempting to sleep. Not that she succeeded, her mind was too busy wondering if Killian would be able to persuade David to go with him to the magic spring.

If he did, she assumed that they would return to let everyone know they planned to leave the others, but she was slightly nervous that they would immediately start towards the spring, keeping it disguised as a very long search for rope.

Killian would come back, if only to let her know that their plan was working.

She wasn't sure how long it took them to return, but she did know she definitely hadn't slept. Killian strode back into the clearing first, several vines in his arms, but David wasn't carrying anything. If Emma hadn't known he'd been poisoned, she might not have thought much about his red, sweaty face, but she _did_ know and his obvious tiredness was very worrying.

"Here you go, my lady," Killian announced, as he dropped the vines in front of Mary-Margaret. "That should be enough for several lengths of rope."

"Thanks."

"Vines weren't the only thing we found," Killian told them, drawing the attention of the entire group as he took the strap of leather out of his pocket and held it out tomorrow. "David discovered this buried in the mud."

"As exciting as that is," Regina started. "I don't see how that's important."

"This piece of leather was once a part of my brother's satchel," Killian stated, and Emma gaped at him. It had clearly been important to him, she'd guessed that much from how he'd ran his thumb over it, how old and used it looked, but she hadn't even considered that it might have belonged to the brother he'd lost. "When I first came to Neverland, my brother lost his satchel on Dead Man's Peak, after a duel with Pan. This must have washed down with rains after the storm that wrecked the Jolly Roger. If this survived, perhaps the satchel did too. If it did, we can get our hands on his sextant. With that, we'll be able to better navigate the stars and once we have the shadow, it'll be much easier to find our way back to Storybrooke."

Emma had to stop herself from looking impressed. If she hadn't known it was a lie, she'd have bought every word, and from the looks of the others, they had done just that.

"So what are you suggesting?" Neal asked. "We go to Dead Man's Peak before Dark Hollow?"

"That would be a waste of time. We need to get a message to Henry, and as vital as that is, it doesn't require all of us making rope and building the trap."

"Are you suggesting we split up?" Mary-Margaret questioned. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Aye, that's exactly what I'm suggesting," Killian returned the leather to his pocket, picking up one of the finished lengths of rope and draping it over his shoulder. "David and I will go. I'm not particularly adept at braiding rope, and David's one of the most skilled with a sword. It makes sense for us to be the ones to do this while you set the trap."

Mary-Margaret pressed her lips together, clearly uneasy about the suggestion. "If you think it's best."

"It sounds like a good idea," Emma spoke up, and her agreement seemed to be enough for Mary-Margaret to acquiesce to the plan. "There's no need for all of us to stay here and make rope. Not if there's something else that can help us."

Mary-Margaret sighed heavily, but she put her vines to the side and crossed the clearing to David to say goodbye. David kissed her before she could say anything. Emma quickly glanced away, because with what she knew, it looked like a goodbye, and although she believed everything would be okay, they deserved some privacy.

"Emma." Killian had moved to her side, gently taking her arm as he lead her a few steps away from the others. "His injury is worse than I feared."

"What do you mean?"

"He collapsed as we were collecting the vines," he whispered. "The poison's moving more quickly than I'd hoped. I think there's still time to get him to the spring, but it'll be close. And if I'm wrong, well… would you rather we stay here?"

Emma's chest felt tight. She didn't know what to say. She _couldn't_ tell him to stay, not when that would guarantee David's death. If that happened, she'd always wonder if he could have been saved if only Emma had answered otherwise.

But she didn't want to send him away only for him to never come back.

"We have to try," she muttered eventually, glancing up from the ground to see Killian's understanding, pained smile. "If we don't, it'll be our fault he's gone."

"It won't be our-"

"You have to go," she ordered. "But I'm coming too."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I know how important it is for you to get a message to Henry."

"I want to see Henry," Emma admitted. "But as long as Neal, Mary-Margaret and Regina get a message to him, he'll know we're here. And if you're wrong, if David _doesn't_ have time, then I have to go with you. Maybe he won't tell Mary-Margaret, but that doesn't mean he needs to die without any family there. _I_ can be there."

Killian's jaw clenched and he nodded. "Of course. Besides, it's unfair of me to ask you to stay here when you won't know whether or not your goodbye is forever. If things go badly, you deserve the opportunity to say a final farewell."

They were being too pessimistic. There was every chance Killian could be right, that there was still time to make it to the spring, but Emma thought it had to be best to be prepared for the worst case scenario. She let Killian leave her side so he could quickly repack a small backpack for the three of them to use, and then she returned to where Neal and Regina were sat making rope.

"I'm going with them," she announced, grimacing at the way Regina stared up at her in disbelief. "Two groups of three is safer. If anything happened to either of them, the other would be alone."

"You'd rather go cavorting with your boyfriend than get a message to your son?" Regina asked furiously. "You _do_ realise you won't return in time to speak with him. Right, Dark One Junior?"

"She's right," Neal told her. "Dead Man's Peak is a few hours away. There and back will be almost half a day's walk."

"I won't be _cavorting_ ," Emma spat. "We don't know what Pan will do once we rescue Henry. Anything that can get us out of this place faster is worth finding. I wish I could stay with you guys and talk to _my_ son, but I'm being practical."

"Be as practical as you like, Miss Swan," Regina snarled. "But I'm not waiting around for you and your boytoy to finish… whatever it is you intend to do. As soon as we get a message to Henry, I'm going after him. I'm not wasting time waiting for someone who clearly doesn't have Henry as their top priority."

"You know we'll be safer together," Emma replied angrily. "Actually, go ahead. Do you what you like. It's not like we'll miss you."

Regina huffed at Emma's bitter laugh, turning away from Emma and refusing to say another word.

"You sure you want to do this?" Neal asked quietly. "You know Henry would want to hear from you."

"I know he would, but this is the right decision," Emma confirmed. "It really is best for us to be in three's and it's not like I'm much help here. Just, can you tell Henry I love him and that I'm coming for him? That we're all coming for him?"

"Of course."

She sent him a grateful smile, and then she joined David and Killian at the edge of the clearing. Mary-Margaret was still with them, although she and David were no longer kissing, and when she saw Emma approaching, she turned a wide smile towards her.

"I'm sure David and I can give the two of you a bit of time," Mary-Margaret told her, giving Emma a cheeky smile that reminded her of before the curse.

"There's no need," Emma replied. "I'm going with them."

"What?"

"I've explained it all to Neal," Emma said. She couldn't bring herself to lie to Mary-Margaret's face. Not about something so important. Something that would destroy her if she knew. "Besides, it's not as though my rope-braiding skills are anything to brag about."

"Both of you are going?" Mary-Margaret checked, looking anxiously between Emma and David. "Maybe I should come too. I'm sure Hook would be able to help with the trap and then we wouldn't be split up."

Emma swallowed. She should have expected Mary-Margaret to want to stay with them, and she wasn't sure how to dissuade her.

"As I said before, Mary-Margaret, I'm not as proficient with braiding ropes as you seem to be," Killian pointed out, waving his hook towards her to emphasise his point. "I'm not saying I _couldn't_ assist, but it would be much clumsier and take far longer."

Mary-Margaret seemed flustered at his comment, suddenly unable to look at him. "Oh, yes, of course. I didn't think…"

Killian smirked, although Emma could tell he was uncomfortable using his hook to draw Mary-Margaret's attention away from her and David. She moved to stand beside him, wrapping her fingers around his hook.

"We'll see you soon," Emma told her, and then she and Killian started into the jungle, giving David and Mary-Margaret another moment alone.

David caught up with them a few minutes later, his hair slightly askew and his breath uneven, although this time, Emma guessed it was from kissing and not from exhaustion. "You're coming?" he asked. "It's just a sextant. I'm sure Henry would prefer it if-"

"I'm coming," Emma told him firmly. "I'm not letting you do this alone."


	46. Chapter 46

** Chapter 46 **

It took about half an hour for David to stop attempting to persuade Emma to go back to the others. No matter how stubbornly Emma responded, a couple of minutes would pass and he'd be asking again. It was only when they were too far from camp to expect Emma to travel back alone that he stopped.

After that, Emma couldn't tell if he was sulking or if he was too tired, but she hoped it was the former. David _liked_ to talk and she didn't like the thought that the Dreamshade had drained him enough that he was staying quiet.

"Neal said it would take a few hours to reach the peak," Emma said when things had been silent for too long. "Is he right?"

"Yes. And that's if we don't take any breaks, which doesn't look likely." Killian looked furtively over his shoulder, at David behind them, and Emma winced at the grimace on his face. She didn't like that look, and she _definitely_ didn't like that David was struggling to keep up.

"How much further?" David interrupted. As quiet as their conversation had been, Emma had a sinking feeling that David had heard everything and was trying very hard to prove Killian wrong. He was standing straighter, his chest puffed out, and although he seemed slightly out of breath after hurrying across the short distance between him and Emma, he seemed determined to keep up. "I mean, we don't want to take too long. We don't want the others to be waiting around after they've sent the message."

"Yeah, that, and we don't want you to die before we reach the-"

"Sextant," Killian cut Emma off before she could announce what they were really looking for. "And given the state of you, I'd say anything more than three hours is pushing it."

"You don't want me to… You _told_ her?" David hadn't seemed to notice Emma's near slip-of-the-tongue, too distracted by the realisation that Emma knew exactly why he was lagging behind. "So much for your honour. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything else from a pirate."

Emma glanced quickly at Killian, biting her lip when she saw his tense jaw and his downcast eyes. She squeezed his hook reassuringly, even though she knew he couldn't feel it, and then she turned an angry look towards David. "You know what you shouldn't have expected?" she snapped angrily. "For your daughter's boyfriend to keep something from her like the fact that you've been poisoned by Dreamshade. He shouldn't have _had_ to be the one to tell me."

"I didn't want to-"

"You never keep anything from Mary-Margaret," Emma continued, angry at how David was trying to defend his decision, at how he hadn't told anyone. "Although apparently not if it isn't _your_ secret to keep. If it had been Killian who got… well, I don't want to think about it. But you'd have told her. You're a team, right?" David opened his mouth to retort, but Emma didn't let him. "Well, so are Killian and I. You shouldn't have made him promise not to tell me."

She glanced briefly at Killian, her fury dimming at the small, pleased smile on his face. He prized his hook out of her grip and then slung his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against his side as though to emphasise what she'd said. That they did things together.

"Emma, my life doesn't matter if saving it stops us saving Henry," David protested, sighing heavily when Emma just shook her head, her arms folded across her chest. "I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want anyone to be distracted. It's not like I told Hook what was going on. He figured it out."

"So he told you he knew, and then what?" Emma asked bitterly. "You decided it was a good idea for the two of you to go find this sextant even though you _know_ you're running out of time? What was the plan, David? For Killian to come back alone and tell us the truth? Or did you want him to keep lying? Was that your last wish?"

David looked away from her, clutching at his side as he took a few deep breaths. "I don't know," he answered hesitantly. "I… I was going to ask Hook to tell you and Snow that I'd died a hero, fighting to get you home. I just didn't want him to tell you that I left already a dead man."

"You can't ask someone to do something like that," Emma exclaimed, gaping at her father in disbelief. "I mean, what are you expecting Killian to do? Lie about it for the rest of his life?"

"It wouldn't be _lying_ ," David protested. "It just wouldn't be the whole story. I wouldn't want your last memories of me to be of a liar."

"Well, you and I _clearly_ see lying differently."

Her words clearly stung. David fell quiet, and for several moments, they walked in silence. It didn't take long before he was lagging a few steps behind. Killian's arm tightened around her shoulder and then she felt him lean in, his nose nudging at her hair.

"Swan, love," he whispered, his mouth distractingly near her ear. "No matter how angry you are, and it's understandable, it doesn't change the fact that that we're running out of time. Do you really want this to be how you spend what may be your last hours with him?"

"These aren't going to be our last hours with him," Emma insisted quietly. "We're going to make it."

"But _if_ we don't, you don't want to regret this."

She sighed quietly, turning her head to look at him when she replied. "You're right. It's just that David shouldn't have put you in that position. He should have… I'm not going to think about it. I'll be angry once he's safe."

Killian leant in, brushing a soft, comforting kiss to the curve of her cheek, and then he looked over his shoulder at David. "Hurry up, mate," he called. "I know you aren't your usual charming self, but we need to move faster."

She glanced back at David, nodding along with Killian's words. David stared at her, only speeding up when she smiled weakly at him. When he caught up again, Killian dropped his arm away from her shoulders and let David stand between the two of them.

They walked together for what Emma was sure was a couple of miles before anyone spoke. She wasn't exactly sure, not when they'd spent the last couple of days walking and her feet were already aching.

"I should have told you," David admitted quietly. "I should have told Snow. I meant what I said, though, about not wanting to distract you from saving Henry. We don't know what Pan wants. We don't know how much time we have. If I told her, she would try to save me and I don't want… Henry's our priority. Not me."

Emma rolled her eyes. She wanted to tell him he was being stupid - Henry _was_ the priority, but they still had time to save David. They _were_ saving him. It wasn't as though they needed six people to do everything.

"Henry will blame himself if you die trying to save him," Emma murmured quietly.

"Make sure he doesn't."

Damn right, she was going to make sure of that. She and Killian were going to make sure there was nothing Henry _could_ blame himself for.

"So," David continued loudly, in a very obvious attempt to change the topic of conversation. "This sextant used to belong to your brother? I didn't know you had a brother."

"Aye."

Killian's quiet response made David frown, and he glanced over at Emma as though looking for an explanation. "I had a brother too, you know? Not that I ever met him."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "You never…?"

"It's complicated," David answered with a bitter chuckle. "James was adopted when we were young, before I could remember, but I stayed with my mother. I only found out about him after he died."

"James?" Emma repeated. "But your name's James. Or at least it is in the storybook."

"My name's David," he stated. "Always has been. After Prince James died, King George forced me to take his place. Other than my mother, and a few knights who trained me, no one knew I'd taken his place."

"No one?"

"We were twins."

"There were _two_ of you?" Killian asked. "I can barely stomach one."

"Ha ha," David replied dryly. "Without me, you'd still be stuck in the Enchanted Forest. Mulan thought you were a criminal before I intervened, remember? You might be good-looking, but _I'm_ the charming one."

"As far as I remember, you didn't exactly manage to change her mind," Killian pointed out with a chuckle. "I wouldn't call that charming."

David rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You know, I think you would have liked my brother. From what I heard, he was a thief and a liar."

He was teasing, a weak but mischievous grin on his face as he glanced over at Killian.

"I _do_ get on well with thieves and liars," Killian chuckled. "But you're not too bad. You'd have liked my brother. He was a stubborn arse."

Emma glanced past David to Killian, recognising the quiet, fond tone that Killian had used the few times he'd mentioned his brother. If David hadn't been standing between them, she'd have taken his hand, but it didn't seem necessary. Not after David elbowed Killian's side and the two of them guffawed.

She knew they were friends - they'd occasionally gotten drinks together before the curse broke, and although things hadn't been as simple in the Enchanted Forest, she'd seen them talking several times before she and Killian and Cora had made things too complicated.

The teasing, though, that was new. Emma guessed that keeping a secret together was a good bonding experience, no matter how much she disagreed with it.

"I'm not stubborn."

"Of course not," Killian drawled, smirking over at Emma. "Why would I even think that?"

Emma hid her grin.

The two men bantered for the rest of the walk. Emma didn't say much, simply listening to the two of them. If they failed, if they _didn't_ reach the spring in time, she would be happy to have this as her last memory of David.

They only stopped moving when they reached a cliff, its face towering over them.

"It's not up there, is it?" David asked weakly. From the grimace on Killian's face, Emma already knew the answer.

"Unfortunately, Dave, it's difficult to reach the highest point of the island without climbing anything," Killian told him. "Here's the plan. I'll climb up and throw the rope down. Once I've done that, it shouldn't be too difficult for you to ascend."

"What, you're expecting us to just wait down here?"

"David, you need a break," Emma interrupted, and although he grumbled a bit, he leant back against the cliff and closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. "Killian, are you sure about this? It's not exactly a small cliff. If you fall-"

"We climbed a beanstalk, darling," Killian muttered, sidling across the short distance to her side, his hand on her waist as he turned her towards him. "That was much higher and you hadn't even healed me. Trust me, it'll be fine."

"I trust you," Emma assured him, before grabbing his collar and tugging him close, her lips on his for only a couple of seconds. "But still, be careful."

"Of course."

~~~*~~~

Emma had hated watching Killian climb up. It wasn't that she didn't think he could do it, because, like he said, she'd been with him as they scaled the beanstalk, but the cliff face seemed less safe. He appeared to know what he was doing, clambering up with a familiarity that suggested it wasn't the first time he'd ascended the cliff, but even that wasn't too reassuring.

Occasionally, the rocks would crumble under Killian's feet or hand and he'd scramble to stay on, but despite the way it always made Emma's heart race, he always managed to cling on and keep climbing. He slipped once, dropping several feet before managing to catch himself, the tip of his hook wedged into a thin crevice as he struggled to gain footing.

She sighed in relief when he finally heaved himself over the cliff edge, vanishing from view. "He's up," Emma told David, shaking his shoulder to wake him. "Once the ropes down, you go first and I'll…"

Emma stopped talking. She could hear someone above them, their voice only just loud enough for her to hear.

"And you'll what?" David asked when she didn't continue. She hissed at him to be quiet, gesturing up to the top of the cliff and giving him a pointed look, hoping he understood what she meant.

He nodded, his lips pressed tightly together, and the two of them leant back against the cliff, trying desperately to hear whatever was going on above them. Emma didn't like not knowing.

"What do you want?" It was muffled by distance, but Emma knew it was Killian.

"Who's he talking to?" David hissed, as though Emma might know. "Who's up there?"

Another stern look from Emma and he shut up.

"To offer you a deal," a second voice said. It was another familiar voice, although it took Emma a few more seconds to realise who it was. "Come back and work for me, like the old days."

"Pan," Emma breathed, her and David exchanging an alarmed look. "Crap."

"I don't miss the old days," Emma heard Killian say, in the same tone she'd heard him use with Regina - derisive and short.

"What if I were to offer you something very hard to come by?" Pan suggested. David gripped Emma's arm, drawing her attention so that he could give her a concerned look. She wasn't sure what it was for, if he was worried what would happen to Killian after refusing Pan's deal or if he actually thought Killian might accept it. "Passage off the island."

"Still not interested."

"Of course not," Pan stated, and Emma just knew he had that irritating smirk on his face, she could hear it in his voice. "Not without Emma. But if you do what I want, I'll let you take her too."

"No," Killian said bluntly. "Emma would never leave her son."

"She did once before."

Emma swallowed, infuriated by Pan's words. He made it sound like she had been selfish to give Henry up, as though she was the sort of person who would walk away from her son, leave him trapped somewhere like Neverland.

He didn't know her. He didn't know why she had given Henry up. He didn't know how much it had hurt, to know that her baby would be so much better off without her.

"I'm not leaving this island without Henry," Killian snarled. Emma couldn't stop her proud smile, warmth filling her at Killian's response.

"Then you're not leaving the island."

"Don't be hasty," Killian said smoothly. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. Henry's only a Lost Boy, after all. I know it's a rather unusual suggestion, but perhaps we could make a trade."

"A trade?"

"Henry returns with me and Emma, and I'll bring another boy back to take his place," Killian suggested. "You know I can do it. I've done it before."

Pan laughed harshly. "Don't make deals you aren't willing to keep, Captain."

"Who says I'm not willing?"

It took an unpleasantly long time for Pan to reply, and Emma hoped Killian's lie hadn't been obvious to him as it had to her. Whatever Killian had done in the past for Pan, she knew he didn't want to be that man anymore, and with that knowledge, she didn't even need to rely on her lie detector to know he was bluffing.

"As intriguing as that sounds," Pan eventually said. "It's not a deal I'm prepared to make. There's nothing you can offer me that's more valuable than Henry. You can leave the island. Emma can leave the island. Henry can't."

"And why's that?"

"Henry's more than just a Lost Boy," Pan replied. "And you can be more than just a one-handed tour guide. We've known each other a very long time, Killian. We've done business before. You might be able to delude yourself into thinking you can change, but you and I both know the truth. You're not a hero. You're a _pirate._ One day, they're all going to realise that and when they do, you'll regret you didn't take my offer."

Emma scowled. She knew exactly who Killian was, and she didn't appreciate Pan trying to convince Killian that one day she'd think otherwise and suddenly not love him anymore.

"And what, _exactly_ , does your offer involve?" Killian asked. "What am I required to do?"

"I simply think that this is the perfect time to restart our relationship," Pan told him. "You know exactly what that requires."

"Without Henry, I'm not interested."

Emma refused to wait around any longer. Pan was dangerous, and the more Killian refused his deal, the more trouble he might be in. The last thing she wanted was to be standing at the bottom of a cliff, unable to do anything if Pan tried to hurt him.

"Stay here," Emma ordered, ignoring David's frustrated, whispered argument. She started up the cliff, each move careful and slow, trying to focus on where she was climbing instead of the conversation above her.

"Of course you are," Pan was saying. "You're good at surviving."

The silence was unnervingly long, and she wondered if Killian was trying to decide the best thing to say. Emma managed to clamber up several more feet, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

"I'm _not_ interested," Killian repeated. "I came back to this land for one reason. Henry. Not to do your dirty work. Offer me whatever you want. I won't take it."

"Of course you won't. That's not what heroes do," Pan stated wryly, spitting out the word 'hero'. "Let's just hope your latest heroics don't end as badly as they did before. Remember what happened the last time you didn't listen to me?"

After a few minutes without either of them speaking, Emma assumed the conversation was over. She hurried up another few feet, wanting to know why Killian hadn't lowered the rope, why things had gone quiet. She moved too quickly, pushing herself up to grab at a thin ledge, but her fingers slipped and she slammed forward into the rock face, her cheek smarting at the impact, her other hand gripping painfully onto the cliff, her toes digging into makeshift footholds.

"Swan?" She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Killian's voice, tilting her head back to look up at him. "I told you to wait."

"Yeah, well, you were taking too long," Emma called up to him. "Are you going to throw me the rope anytime soon?"

It took him a few seconds, but soon the rope was dangling beside her. She tugged at it briefly before grabbing hold, making sure it was fixed in place, and then she quickly climbed up the rest of the cliff. Killian offered her his hand to help pull her over the edge, and once she was standing at his side, the two of them stared down at David.

"Come on, mate," Killian yelled down. Once they saw David start to climb, Emma turned to face him, frowning when she saw his gaze roaming over her face. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over it, his touch stinging. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Emma answered. "I just slipped. It's nothing. Are _you_ okay?"

"Am I…?" He trailed off, realisation dawning on his face. "You heard?"

"I heard." Killian's hand dropped away from her cheek, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. She stared at him, taking in how he was shifting his weight from side to side, shuffling his feet and looking anywhere but at her. "What do you think Pan wants Henry for? What does he mean by 'more than a Lost Boy'?"

When he looked at her, he seemed surprised. "I don't know."

"And the deal?" Emma asked. "Why does Pan want you out of here?"

"I assume he wants to trap the others in this place," Killian replied. "If we took the Jolly Roger back to Storybrooke, they wouldn't have a way back. At least, not one they can take together."

He stayed quiet after that, gazing at her as though he was just waiting for her to say something else. Emma didn't have anything that seemed important enough for him to be looking at her like that, so she wasted a few seconds by peering over the edge to check on David.

"I'd have done anything to get my revenge on Rumplestiltskin," Killian told her suddenly, drawing her attention away from her father. She frowned at him, confused by the sudden announcement. Was that what he had been expecting? A question about what he'd done decades earlier? "I know I've told you that before. I came to Neverland to buy myself time. Pan allowed me to make regular trips back to the Enchanted Forest, as long as I did him a few favours while I was out there. I needed the opportunities to find out what I could about how to destroy the Dark One, and for that, I did whatever Pan asked me to do."

"Like smuggling cakes?" she suggested lightly, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about. She'd just heard him admit to something far worse.

"And the occasional child. Pan enjoyed testing my limits, and I'm ashamed to say that I passed every time." he added, shame clear on his face. "I'm not a good man, Emma. I don't want you to think otherwise."

"What I _think_ is that you're a man who would do anything to help me get back to my son. Double-crossing Cora. Climbing a beanstalk with a broken collarbone. Trying to make a deal with Pan," Emma murmured, suddenly very aware that David could probably hear every word they said and wanting to keep her reassurances as private as she could. "Whatever kind of man that makes you, it's the kind of man I want. It doesn't matter who you used to be. Not to me."

She wasn't entirely sure he believed her. Apparently Pan knew exactly what to say to make him doubt himself, and as much as she wished she could say the right thing and fix it, David had finally reached the top of the cliff and they couldn't stand and talk anymore.

Not when David looked exhausted.

She turned away from Killian to help David up, grimacing at how he slumped forward and rested against her for a few moments once he was on the ledge with them. "Hey, it's alright," she muttered, shooting a worried look to Killian when David didn't really respond. "You're at the top. We're almost there."

Emma glanced at Killian for confirmation, relieved when he nodded, and then he helped her get David to his feet. "We need to move," he told her unnecessarily. "There's not long now."

"So let's go."

~~~*~~~

It turned out that 'not long now' meant walking for almost another hour, and by the time they reached Dead Man's Peak, Emma was insisting on helping David, even though he said he didn't need any assistance.

Whatever he said, she didn't believe him.

"Here we are," Killian told her, helping her lower David to the ground, resting him against a large boulder. David groaned but didn't seem aware of what was happening. "He just needs to hold on a few more minutes. The spring's right here, behind the plants."

"The plants?" Emma repeated, looking past Killian to the black bushes lining one side of the plateau. "Isn't that Dreamshade? How are you going to get past that?"

"By being very careful," Killian answered, zipping up his leather jacket and popping the collar, as though that would be enough to protect him.

"I'll help," Emma decided, moving away from David's side and drawing her cutlass. "I can keep the branches out of your way while you-"

"No," he ordered. "I don't want you anywhere near this plant. I can't risk…"

"Come on, Killian, it's not like I want you near it either."

"One of us has to," Killian told her. "It can't be you."

She would have protested, but there was a desperation in his voice that she didn't understand, something that told her not to argue. "Okay, okay, I won't, but _please_ , be careful."

He nodded, and Emma watched him draw his sword and approach the thorns. He held his sword out at arm's length, slicing at the Dreamshade and cutting a way through the bushes. She only observed him for a few moments, until David coughed and pulled her attention away.

"David?" she asked, hurrying back to his side and crouching next to him. "How are you?"

"I'm so tired," he admitted. Emma bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder to see how Killian was doing. He was still fighting with the Dreamshade, and although she wanted to ask him to hurry up, she knew it was too dangerous for him to do that. "I'm so glad you're here, Emma."

She swallowed, her throat feeling thick at the resignation in his voice. He turned his head towards her, and Emma gaped at the way she could see his blood blackening, his cheek looking bruised and purple. "Killian, his face…"

"That's the Dreamshade," Killian told her, and she looked back at him to see that he'd managed to cut enough of the plants aside to reveal a niche behind them. "Check his wound. Once the Dreamshade reaches his heart, we've run out of time."

"His heart?" Emma repeated. "What about if it reaches his _brain_?"

Killian didn't answer. Emma nudged David's hand so she could lift his t-shirt up, gaping when she saw the wound. It wasn't a deep cut, and if the arrows hadn't been tipped with Dreamshade, Emma doubted it would even have bothered David. But the arrows _had_ been, and the thin cut was covered with a black scab, dark veins spidering out from it.

She had hoped David would say something, that he'd try and pretend everything was going to be fine, but he was quiet. For a short, horrifying moment, she thought he wasn't breathing, but once she forced herself to stop panicking, she could see his chest moving. His breathing was slow, shaky, but at least he was still alive.

"David?" she muttered, shaking his shoulder to try and bring him back to consciousness. "Come on, David. Wake up. It'll just be a few more minutes. _Please_." She shook him even more roughly, but other than a faint groan, he didn't respond. Emma wasn't sure he was ever going to. "David? _Dad_?"

She heard Killian's heavy footsteps coming closer, and then he joined her, kneeling down on the other side of David. He handed her a waterskin, and then he reached down to grab David's face, slapping him a few times until he jolted awake.

"Here," Killian ordered, snatching the water back from Emma and holding it towards David. "Drink this."

"What?" David panted, although he was already reaching for it. "What is-?"

"It's water," Killian told him. "It will stop the Dreamshade. It will save your life."

David was drinking it before Killian even finished speaking, gulping the water down. Emma held her breath for a moment, worried it wouldn't work, but the moment he swallowed, she saw him heal, the black veins fading back to normal. His cheek didn't look bruised, the feverish flush was gone, and when she pushed his t-shirt up again, the wound looked like a normal scratch.

He sat up and glanced incredulously between Emma and Killian, nudging Emma's hand aside to look down at the injury, a relieved, breathless chuckle falling from his lips when he saw it. "You saved me."

"Aye," Killian replied. Emma couldn't answer, too busy looking over her father to make sure he was alright. "It's why we brought you here."

"Why you… There isn't a sextant," David stated. "Is there?"

"No."

David laughed, his body bending with each loud guffaw. "Of course there isn't," he muttered, as though he was talking to himself. "I should have known. I should have known you wouldn't listen to me."

"You weren't exactly talking sense, mate," Killian joked, glancing up from David to send Emma a beaming, relieved grin that she returned. "I'd have been foolish to listen."

"Thank you."

"Look, Dave, it isn't as simple as you drinking the water and being cured," Killian warned. "I'd have told you earlier if you'd given me the chance, but now that you've drunk from the spring, you can't leave Neverland. Its power comes from the island. It will only work while you're here.."

David's laugh faltered, and he looked at Emma as though hoping she'd shake her head and tell him otherwise. She couldn't do that, so she just smiled sympathetically, swallowing at the disappointment that appeared briefly on his face.

He shook the expression away. "It's a small price to pay for the opportunity to save my grandson and help my family get home."

"Just because it looks like you can't leave this place doesn't mean that we can't find a way to change that," Emma promised, ignoring Killian's grimace. "You're not going to be trapped here. I'm not going to let that happen. I just… don't know how to do that. Not yet. But I will."

"After we've saved Henry?"

"Yeah," Emma told him. "After."

He nodded, seemingly relieved that they wouldn't be distracted by him until Henry was safe. She was so glad he was himself again, that the water had worked and he was awake and being all heroic, that she couldn't stop herself from launching herself forward and hugging him.

David returned the hug, his hand cupping the back of her head. He released her after several seconds, and Killian immediately offered her his hand, helping her to her feet. David clambered up after her, the three of them standing on the small plateau.

Killian released her hand, and then turned to David, who was holding out his own for Killian to shake. As soon as he took it, David tugged him for a brief hug, clapping him on the back. "Thanks again, Hook," he muttered. Emma grinned at the two of them, and when they stepped away from each other, David turned back to her. "And you."

"There's no need," Emma insisted. "We couldn't have done anything else. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me too," David joked. "Now let's get back to the others. I thought I was never going to see Snow again. Now I know that's not true, I need to see her."

He strode off, his steps bouncy, and Emma beamed. Whatever happened in Neverland, after they found Henry, at least David would be with them.

~~~*~~~

It seemed like the springwater hadn't only stopped the Dreamshade. David seemed completely rejuvenated, bounding back through the jungle at a speed that was totally at odds with how far they'd already walked. Emma and Killian couldn't keep up. Her legs were stiff after several hours of walking and climbing, and Killian seemed just as affected.

He was moving even slower than her, although there wasn't enough of a difference in their speed for them to be unable to walk hand in hand. She had expected him to look happier now that David wasn't dying and he didn't have to keep any secrets from the others, but he didn't. He looked almost broken.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly. "You've been quiet since we left the peak."

He glanced over at her and shrugged. Emma raised an eyebrow, and once he met her gaze, he sighed heavily and tightened his grip on her hand. "I'm sorry, Swan. I know I should be in better spirits now that your father's alright, but it isn't that simple."

"I know," Emma reminded him. "We've only saved him for now. You told me that. It doesn't mean he's trapped here. I mean, if I can use magic to heal you then surely there's someone who can use magic to save him. Maybe Mother Superior or even Rumplestiltskin? And yeah, you don't know if bringing the water back to Storybrooke will give him more time, but if David agrees, it's worth trying, right?

"It isn't that," Killian told her. "I hope there's a way for him to return to Storybrooke with us, I truly do. I want him to be free from the Dreamshade and from here, but at the same time, if there is a way to save him, then I let my brother die."

"You let your-"

"I know I shouldn't want David to be damned by the poison," Killian muttered guiltily. "But if he is, then at least I couldn't have saved Liam."

Everything suddenly made sense. She knew he'd lost his brother, and he'd made it clear that he'd seen someone die from the Dreamshade, but she hadn't realised the connection. Not until that moment. Emma didn't know enough to figure out exactly what had happened, but she had a good idea. He must have used the water from the spring to save his brother, only for Liam to die the moment they returned to their realm.

She couldn't even imagine how that would have felt.

"But you didn't _know_ the cure wouldn't work outside of Neverland, right?" Emma asked carefully. "If you didn't know, then you couldn't have done anything. Whatever happened to your brother, it isn't your fault."

He stopped walking suddenly, tugging Emma to a halt as well. "You're wrong," he admitted, unable to meet her eyes. "Pan warned me. He told me that the cure would come at a price and that I shouldn't leave Neverland unless I was willing to pay it. Besides, Liam would never have even been poisoned if it weren't for me."

Her eyebrows furrowed, searching Killian's expression to try and figure out what he meant. She couldn't read much, his face just as blank as it had been when he'd first told her about the spring. She didn't know how long it had been since Liam's death, although she did know it had to have been centuries ago, and she wondered if he'd spent his life since then trying desperately not to think about it.

"What happened?" He bit his lip at the question, staring down at the ground. "You don't have to tell me. It's not like I don't get not wanting to talk about the past, but if you _do_ want to talk to someone, you know I'll listen."

He smiled gratefully, but he didn't say anything until they'd walked for another twenty minutes in silence. "Swan, what happened to Liam isn't something I like to think about. I like talking about it even less. It's not exactly pleasant to dwell on one of my greatest failures."

"How did you fail?"

"My brother and I came to this land on the request of the king. He wanted us to return with a plant that could be used to cure any ill," Killian started, a bitter smile on his face when he shook his head and continued. "I told myself we were on a hero's journey. I was wrong. We arrived on the shore and Pan appeared. He told us the plant we were searching for wouldn't save lives, but destroy them."

"Dreamshade."

"Aye. I listened to Pan but Liam didn't," he told her. "We reached the top of Dead Man's Peak and found the Dreamshade, but I couldn't let Liam take it without addressing what Pan had said. If he was right, we'd be sentencing hundreds to… well, I wasn't sure but from what Pan had said, I was certain it wouldn't be pleasant. Liam refused to listen, and when I insisted, he tried to prove otherwise and he used the Dreamshade on himself."

Emma gaped at Killian. She knew he'd been building up to that, but she hadn't expected his brother's death to be due to something so stupid, and she definitely couldn't believe Killian had been blaming himself for hundreds of years.

"He collapsed almost instantly," Killian continued, his voice breaking. "Your father was poisoned by the diluted Dreamshade the Lost Boys taint their arrows with. Liam's death was much faster. Five minutes, and he was gone. Or so I thought."

"But Pan told you how to save him," she realised. "He told you about the spring and he told you about the price."

"I assumed he meant gold, and I was willing to find a way to pay any price he gave me if it meant I'd have my brother back," Killian told her. "We returned to our realm without the plant, determined to reveal what our King had truly been trying to do, but the moment we crashed back onto the ocean, he collapsed again and I..."

His voice faded away and he swallowed loudly, his hand almost painfully tight around hers. Emma stopped walking again, reaching out quickly to grab his other arm and pull him around to face her, the two of them standing face to face in the middle of the Neverland jungle.

"It wasn't your fault," she said firmly. "You heard that the plant might be dangerous so you questioned it. That was the right thing to do and maybe you don't want to hear this, but your brother was being foolish when he tested the plan on himself. I mean, if you hear something might be poisonous, you don't give it a go just to make sure."

"He wanted to know the truth," Killian protested. "If I'd stayed quiet, he wouldn't have-"

"And you'd have taken the Dreamshade with you and then what?" Emma questioned, her gaze softening when it became clear that Killian didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry about your brother, but it wasn't your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"Emma, I… It has to be," he insisted weakly. "I goaded him into it. Without me, Liam would have lived."

"Without the King," Emma corrected. "The King sent you to get the Dreamshade. Liam tested it on himself. From what you've told me, you're the only one who did the right thing. It just sucks that it didn't end well."

"I blamed the King. I spent several years doing just that," he admitted. "But the King is long dead, and the only person left to blame is me."

It was clear that it was going to take more than a few sentences to stop him from believing something that he'd told himself for so long. She sighed heavily, and then she pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him and sighing again when she felt him cling to her, his head on her shoulder.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was," he said, the words muffled by the way he was speaking into her shoulder. "What matters now is that I won't fail _you_."

"You won't."

~~~*~~~

They'd eventually made it back to camp, and although Killian still hadn't seemed entirely himself, he'd definitely cheered up after their conversation. Despite that, he had still wandered off by himself after they returned, telling Emma that he needed a moment.

Not that David had let him immediately walk away. He'd stood in the centre of the camp and told everyone that Killian had saved his life, lying about how Killian had pushed him away from a poisoned arrow. Emma hadn't been able to meet Mary-Margaret's eyes as she fawned over Killian, thanking him several times until he just walked away.

Emma wanted to follow him, but she had something else she needed to do first. Leaving Mary-Margaret and David alone, she crossed the clearing to sit by Neal.

"So, you reached Henry?" she asked. "He knows we're coming?"

"Yeah," Neal answered. "It got a bit out of hand, but it all worked out. We actually got to talk to him."

"You talked to him?" Emma repeated, suddenly wishing that she'd stayed with them and seen her son. "How? Does that mean he was here? Couldn't you have rescued him?"

"I wish," Neal grumbled. "No, it was Regina. We caught a Lost Boy, but he wouldn't go against Pan's wishes. Not until Regina made him. She ripped his heart out and forced him to give half of her mirror to Henry. I don't know how it worked, but magic never makes sense anyway. Henry got the mirror, and we were able to talk to him for a bit. We told him we were coming, but we couldn't say much more. Henry didn't want Pan to know we'd reached him."

"You told him I'm here too? That I love him?"

"Of course," Neal promised. "I told him everything you wanted me to. Did you get the sextant?"

Emma shook her head. "No, it wasn't there. Where _is_ Regina? Is she giving the Lost Boy his heart back?"

"She left," he told her. "She said you guys were taking too long and she'd be better off getting Henry by herself. As for the heart, she gave it back. She told the boy to give Henry the mirror and then to forget everything that had happened. Apparently you can do that."

"So now what?"

"We rest. Mary-Margaret and David will go get Tink tomorrow, and we'll meet them after we've got the shadow from Dark Hollow. The cave's another several hours away, so it's probably best if we stay here for tonight and rest up before go. We don't want to be hanging around near there and we _definitely_ don't want to be tired."

Emma would have preferred a plan with less waiting, but Neal knew the island better than she did, so she just nodded. When it looked like he wasn't going to say anymore, she stood up and followed after Killian, calling back to the others that she wouldn't be gone for long.

It took several minutes of walking before she reached him. He was leaning against a tree, twisting his hook back and forth in its brace, and until she spoke, it didn't seem like he'd noticed her.

"They reached Henry," she told him, smiling when he turned to look at her. "He knows we're coming."

"That's wonderful."

"Yeah, it is," she stated, and then she crossed the clearing to stand before him. "But that's not why I'm here. I know Mary-Margaret was thanking you, but she doesn't know the truth and I thought you deserved to hear a thank you from someone who knows exactly what you did and just how hard all of this must be for you."

"I know you're grateful, Swan," Killian told her. "But as you said to David, there's no need. I couldn't have done anything else."

"Stop brushing it aside," Emma replied. "What you've done, what you're still doing… no one's ever done anything like this for me before. If you weren't here, we wouldn't have known about David. He'd have died, and we wouldn't have been able to do anything. Without you, we wouldn't have been able to save him. We wouldn't have been able to save Henry. We wouldn't have even made it to Neverland. So please, let me say thank you. What you're doing, it… well, it means everything to me."

Killian looked completely overwhelmed, and she smiled warmly at him. She had needed to say that to him, especially after everything he'd told her that day. She wanted him to know exactly how much he'd done for her, how much of a hero he was to her, and before he could open his mouth and try to downplay what he was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him.

It was just a soft kiss at first, her lips brushing against his in a quick show of gratitude, but when she pulled away, Killian chased her lips, claiming them again after only a second. It was more then, his kiss hard and surprisingly furious.

She understood. It felt like it had been too long, each kiss since he'd remembered either interrupted or kept short, the others too close for them to give in and feel each other again. Killian seemed desperate, and she briefly wondered if he'd managed to convince himself that Pan's words were true, that one day she'd find out something that stopped her loving him and he needed her to wrap herself around him and prove Pan wrong.

And now they were alone in a small clearing, the others several minutes walk away, and Emma suddenly just _wanted_.

She clung to him, her hands tugging at his hair, gripping at his collar, pulling him as close to her as possible. He seemed just as desperate, his hand cupping the back of her head as he nipped gently at her bottom lip, his tongue sliding against hers when she opened up to him. The point of his hook dug into her hip, almost painful but _so_ good.

They stumbled away from the tree when she tried to yank him impossibly closer, and they would have fallen if she hadn't collided with another, Killian crashing against her and stealing her breath away. It was that which broke the kiss, Killian's forehead falling to rest against her shoulder as he chuckled breathlessly.

"This is mad," he panted, although Emma guessed from the hot kiss he pressed to her shoulder that, however crazy it was to make out in Neverland, he didn't care. "You told them we wouldn't be gone long."

She _couldn't_ care, not with the weight of him against her, not when she felt like she'd been so tense, so stressed, for so long. Since they found out Cora was in Storybrooke, since she'd found Killian unconscious on the other side of the town line.

All she wanted to do was let go, even if it was in a stolen, brief moment.

"Then let's not take long," she muttered coyly, biting at the corner of her lip as she smirked at him. "We can be quick."

"I don't think this is a good idea," he replied, but he was kissing her even as he said it.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, Killian pressing her even more firmly against the tree to keep them balanced. The bark of the tree was rough against her shoulders, and she could feel it scraping against her shoulder with each slight movement.

"And _I_ think," Emma whispered, as she kissed his jaw, his lips, everywhere she could reach. "We should make one good memory in Neverland."

He chuckled hoarsely, a boyish grin gracing his face before he kissed her again, the slow, tender movement of his lips against hers at odds with the quick, hurried tryst. She sank into it, her hands cupping his face. Her heart was beating too fast, pounding a frantic rhythm in her chest, and all there was was him.

"Killian," she whimpered, breaking his kiss when it suddenly became too much. When she _felt_ too much. He smiled softly, his forehead resting against hers. Emma took a few seconds to just look at him, his handsome face flushed pink, his eyes an intense, hungry blue, his expression finally, brilliantly, happy.

God, she loved him.

"I…" The words were there, on the tip of her tongue. She inhaled sharply, her chest tight, terrified that the phrase would escape. She couldn't let it.

So she dipped her head, busying herself by attaching her lips to Killian's neck, sucking and nipping and marking him, his wrecked groan sending a shiver through her.

Even if she _was_ ready to say the words, it wouldn't be now. Not in a stolen twenty minutes.

"I know," Killian replied, and she didn't know what he thought she was going to say, but she didn't care.

She kissed him again, messier and more urgent than the kiss he'd given her. They were running out of time. Emma hurried to unbutton his vest, untuck his shirt, her fingers quickly drawing down the zip of his trousers so she could take him in hand.

Killian wrenched his mouth away from hers. "Swan, wait," he gasped. "I don't know if… I don't have a-"

"Condom?" she interrupted breathlessly. "It's fine. Really. I've got an implant."

He frowned at her but then seemed to decide not to waste time being confused, because he ducked his head to press scalding, open-mouthed kisses across her shoulders, along the neck of her vest. She threw her head back, eyes closed, and then she felt his fingers curling in the waistband of her leggings.

He pulled them just far enough down her thighs and then it was fast, intense, and although Emma wished they could have had longer, it felt wonderful for her mind to be blank and her body to be completely relaxed.

After, Killian pressed a few quick kisses to her cheeks and then, once she had released her legs from around his waist, he stepped back just far enough to let her slide the last inch back to the ground.

Her legs were shaky underneath her, and she sagged back against the tree, her shoulders stinging when they met the rough bark of the trunk. She barely noticed, too light-headed and sated to care. Instead, she just sighed, her head tilting back so she could stare up at Killian, his smile dazed and his hair mussed.

When their eyes met, his expression softened even further, and he reached out to gently comb his hand through her tangled hair. His rings got caught a couple of times, each time followed by a murmured apology.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "It's been too long since I told you."

"I'm pretty sure you told me that earlier this week," Emma teased, although she still swayed forward and brushed a kiss to his lips. "But you're not so bad yourself."

As much as she'd like to stay longer and bask in Killian, she _had_ promised David they wouldn't be long.

She sighed, nudging Killian away and starting back towards the camp. She didn't get far, only managing a couple of steps past him before she felt his hand on her arm. "Your shoulders," he mumbled, and she looked back at him, over her shoulder. "They're hurt."

Emma glanced down, wincing when she saw that her skin was grazed, pink and raw. "It's fine. It was worth it."

"Perhaps you'll change your mind when we return to the others and they start asking questions," he pointed out, grinning when Emma laughed. "We just saved your father's life. We don't want to give him a heart attack."

He shrugged his leather jacket off, holding it out towards her. Without it, he looked even more disheveled, his vest lying open and his shirt untucked, several buttons undone. Emma wasn't entirely sure what she looked like, but if it was anything like Killian, she imagined they'd be getting questions long before anyone even noticed her scratched shoulders.

Not that that stopped her from slipping the jacket on.

He smirked at the sight, sidling up to her and reaching out to adjust the collar. She grinned back, her own hands busy buttoning up his shirt and vest, leaving them slightly more open than he usually wore them. When it was done, she rested her hands on his chest for just a second, able to feel his heart beating under her palm.

"We should go back," he murmured, his own hand drifting away from the jacket collar to brush her hair away from her face. "Right?"

"Right."

They wandered back hand in hand, taking longer than necessary to return back to the clearing. Neal saw them first, a smirk glancing across his face as he looked between the two of them. David seemed oblivious at first, but once Mary-Margaret gently untangled a small piece of bark from Emma's hair, Emma could see the horror dawning on her father's face.

And even though she was sure Mary-Margaret had shared more gossip than necessary with him before the curse broke, it was very clear that David would prefer to ignore the realisation that his daughter and Captain Hook had wandered off and had sex in the Neverland jungle.

"Have fun?" Neal asked teasingly.

Emma ignored the question.

"I think it's a good time to sleep," David announced loudly, making Neal snigger. "We don't need to talk right now. What we need is to be well-rested. Isn't that what you said, Neal?"

It didn't take long to set up their beds, Emma placing her blanket next to Killian's. Once everyone else was asleep, he turned to look at her. She smiled back, and he lifted his arm up so she could move closer. She settled against his side, her head on his chest, arm across his waist. His hand slid under his leather jacket, then her vest, to rest against her bare skin.

In his arms, Emma slept.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Hawkeye733 for editing this with me!

**Chapter 47**

Emma woke up pressed closer to Killian's side, his hand still hot against her back, hers resting against his chest. She was half-lying on him, her head buried against his neck and her hair fluttering slightly with each breath he took.

It didn't look like anyone else was awake, but Emma was getting used to being the first one up. She would have woken the others, but she remembered how serious Neal had been about the dangers of Dark Hollow. Maybe sleep didn't seem to refresh her, but she knew it was different for the others, so she decided to let them rest for just a bit longer.

She didn't like that decision, but it was the right one. Neal was the only one who had braved Dark Hollow before, and although a decade had passed since they regularly woke up together, she remembered that, without sleep, he was useless.

Not that Emma would be able to get any more sleep. She didn't want to spend her time dwelling on how they were wasting time, no matter how difficult that thought was to ignore. She sighed loudly and then propped herself up on one elbow so that she could gaze down at Killian.

Until that moment, she hadn't realised just how tense Neverland made him. In his sleep, he had a small smile teasing the corner of his mouth, his whole expression relaxed, entirely different to the almost-permanent frown he'd been wearing since the Jolly Roger crashed onto the Neverland seas.

Emma swallowed, gratitude overwhelming her for a moment. Despite what she'd told Killian the day before, she doubted she could ever put into words exactly what she felt. Of course, she was grateful for how he was helping her, how determined he was to see Henry safe again, but what she couldn't say was how thankful she was that she'd never even considered that he would do otherwise. Emma wasn't entirely sure how he'd done it, but Killian had become someone that she would trust with anything, someone that she knew she could count on. Before him, before Storybrooke, she'd never had that. She'd never _let_ herself have that.

Now, she didn't want to even imagine a life where she didn't have him at her side.

She gently traced her finger along the lines of his face, her thumb smoothing away the non-existent crease between his eyebrows. Even if she hadn't managed to distract herself with thoughts of how much she loved him, she was sure she'd have been able to wile away several moments just thinking about how handsome he was.

And maybe it was selfish, but if Emma _had_ to wait for the others to wake up, she wanted to do that with Killian instead of with her own thoughts.

She kissed him awake, brushing her lips against his cheek, his jaw, before finally sliding them over his, a satisfied smile crossing her face when she felt him rouse beneath her. He grumbled softly into the kiss, and then he was kissing back, lips moving lazily under hers.

Emma drew back, biting her lip to hide her pleased grin when Killian's eyes finally opened and he peered up at her. "I didn't mean to wake you," she lied, unable to hide her happiness any longer and letting the beaming smile spread across her lips. "Sorry."

"No, you're not," he murmured. "But I'm not complaining. This is a good way to wake up."

"It is, isn't it?" she agreed. His expression softened into one of adoration when she placed her hand on his cheek, keeping his gaze on her as she smiled down at him. Her breath caught at the way he was looking at her, and she let her own stare become equally tender, her focus entirely on him.

She wanted to wake up like this more often. She wanted to wake up in his embrace, with him looking at her like he loved her, and kiss him good morning.

"You know how I said we should take a vacation?" she asked quietly, trailing her fingers down his cheek, his neck, before letting them rest against his chest, tucked just under his open collar. He nodded his head slightly in response. "I know we can't leave Storybrooke, but maybe we could manage a weekend. You know, after Henry's home and he's safe and Storybrooke's been quiet for a couple of weeks? He can stay with Regina or with Neal and we can take the Jolly Roger as far out as we can and just… be alone for a weekend. You can teach me more about the stars and-"

"And what's brought this on?" he queried, beaming up at her. "Why are we suddenly making weekend plans?"

"I... I want to wake up like this more," she admitted. "When I don't have to run off to get Henry to school or to stop some storybook villain. When it can be just us."

"And what would we do for two full days alone on the Jolly Roger?"

Emma smirked, tilting her head down to brush her lips over Killian's just once before answering. "Each other?"

He seemed taken aback for an instant and then he guffawed loudly, his chest vibrating under her hand. It was too loud, bound to wake one of the others up, and she slapped his chest lightly to try and shut him up.

It was too late. She could hear one of the others mumbling and moving around, so with a reluctant sigh, she rolled away from Killian, staring at the black canopy above her and quelling a smile when she felt Killian adjust his own position and take her hand, so that he was lying a few inches away but their fingers were laced together.

"What time is it?" David asked loudly, although he got no answer, and Emma glanced across the small clearing to see that he was standing up and stretching. If he was the one they'd woken, Mary-Margaret was bound to be up next and, just as she'd expected, soon Mary-Margaret was rolling up her and David's blankets and unpacking the last few breakfast bars from the backpacks.

With most of them awake, it didn't seem worth waiting for Neal to wake up. Emma stood up, letting go of Killian's hand, and wandered over towards her ex. She lightly kicked his shoulder until he grumbled and rolled away, and then after one more, sharper, kick, he jolted awake.

"What the hell, Emma?" he asked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. "I know you don't sleep but that doesn't mean you have to kick me awake."

"Everyone else is up," she told him. "So stop complaining."

He grumbled something in response, but once Mary-Margaret handed him food, he perked up and started shoving his things back into one of the backpacks.

"So what's the plan?" David prompted. "Dark Hollow, right? We get the shadow, we get Henry and then get home?"

"Yeah," Neal answered, around a mouthful of granola bar. "Emma, Hook and I will go get the shadow. You and Mary-Margaret should go get Tink. We'll meet you at her treehouse tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Mary-Margaret asked. "You want us to split up for more than a couple of hours?"

"It'll take about seven hours to reach the Hollow. We'll want to get as far away from it as we can before we can take a break, but there's no way we'll make it back to Tink's without stopping for the night," Neal explained. "I mean, it should be quieter once we've caught the shadow but we still don't want to risk letting our guard down anywhere near that place. As for splitting up, we don't take any longer than we have to, right? If you tell Tink we're on our way, she can get ready to get us into Pan's hideout and we won't have to wait around after getting the shadow back to you guys."

"And how are we meant to find Tink's treehouse? Neither of us knows the way."

"I have to go to Dark Hollow because I know how to get the shadow," Neal pointed out. "I guess Hook could go with you."

"No," Killian stated firmly. "I'm going with you and Emma to Dark Hollow. That's non-negotiable."

"It's to the west," Neal said after a moment's silence, clearly trying to think of something helpful to tell them. "Try and get a look at the sky if you really need help getting there. The two big stars mark the north, so if you can see them, you can figure out what direction you're going in."

After redistributing their things so that both groups had a backpack with enough food and blankets, they put out the campfire and prepared to leave, Killian pointing out the direction Mary-Margaret and David should head in.

Before her parents left, David drew Emma into a hug. "Tell Mary-Margaret what happened yesterday," she murmured to him as she returned the embrace. "She needs to know, and it's probably better to tell her when there's no one else around."

She felt David nod, and then he pulled away, stepping aside to let Mary-Margaret hug Emma as well.

"Good luck," Mary-Margaret told her. "And be careful."

"You too."

~~~*~~~

A couple of hours into their walk and Emma had come to the decision that she never wanted to step foot in another jungle. It was far too hot and humid and she was sweating in Killian's leather jacket, although that hadn't been enough to make her remove it. After seeing David almost surrendering to the Dreamshade, she was reluctant to expose any more skin than she had to, and unlike the two men, without the leather, she wouldn't have any sleeves.

Even if it hadn't been almost unbearably uncomfortable, Emma was pretty sure that she'd still not want to walk another step. She was so tired of walking. She missed her Bug. She missed _sidewalks,_ missed not having to concentrate on every step so that she didn't trip over a stray root and faceplant in front of her ex. She'd even happily sit through another awkward road trip with Rumplestiltskin if it meant she didn't have to walk.

Another thing she couldn't help but long for was an actual bed. Three nights on a thin blanket were more than enough, and she had started to daydream about what she could do when they finally returned to Storybrooke. As tempting as the thought of her own double bed was, she preferred to imagine curling up with Killian in his narrow bunk or the two of them taking advantage of all the space in one of the few king-sized beds at Granny's.

Or any bed, as long as they weren't surrounded by leaves and had a real mattress.

Her thoughts had managed to distract her for a while, but eventually, she couldn't ignore how awkward it was. Despite having a few civil conversations with Neal since they arrived in Neverland, it had never been just her, Killian and Neal before and there was too much history between them for the atmosphere to be anything other than uncomfortable.

"So, Neal," Killian started, surprising both Emma and Neal when he spoke. "Do you intend to stay in Storybrooke after we've returned? I understand that you were living in New York before your impromptu trip to our small town. Are you going to return there?"

There was a fondness in Killian's voice that Emma hadn't expected, and it was slightly off-putting to hear him talking to Neal the way she imagined a parent would, asking about his life and his plans.

"I, uh, well, I don't know," Neal answered eventually, glancing uncertainly at Emma. "I told Emma that I'd stay for a couple of weeks and then sort out another time to visit, but I didn't think I'd be spending half that time in Neverland. I guess, other than my job, there's not exactly anything for me in New York. Not anymore. I mean, I didn't plan on going back _without_ a fiancée."

"So you might stay?" Emma interrupted, unsure how she felt about that. She knew Henry would like it, but things were difficult enough with just her and Regina wanting to spend time with him. Three separate parents would probably make things much harder. "In Storybrooke? With your father?"

"Not _with_ my Papa," Neal told her. "I mean, there have to be a few empty apartments in Storybrooke, right? _If_ I stay. I mean, even if I did, I'd have to go back to New York and figure things out with my rent and my job before I could move. You know, see if I have any gigs booked or anything? People don't respond kindly when you cancel on their weddings."

"What is your job?" Killian asked. "What do you do in New York?"

"Photography. Mainly weddings, but I'll do whatever if it pays the bills."

"Well, weddings are hardly a big business in Storybrooke," Killian admitted. "I have to say that I think your mother would be proud. If she'd visited the Land Without Magic, I'm sure she'd have loved photography. She saw everything through the eyes of an artist. I'm sure she'd have been thrilled to hear the same of you."

Neal glanced at Emma, clearly unsure how to respond. "Like I said, it pays the bills."

Killian raised his eyebrows, clearly doubting Neal's words. Emma understood why. She'd seen the etchings on the walls of his cave too, and whatever Neal said, he _was_ creative. She remembered the way he used to doodle on napkins at diners, how he'd draw on anything if he had a pen in his hands, although he'd always pretended it was just to keep his fingers quick.

Not that she'd be surprised if he was downplaying it just to change the subject. Just from looking at him, she could tell he wasn't exactly at ease talking about his mother with Killian. Emma had to agree. She had no issues with Killian's past relationship with Milah - they both had pasts - but it wasn't exactly normal to listen to her boyfriend discussing _his_ ex with his ex's son, who happened to be the father of _Emma's_ son.

Emma shook her head. It was too complicated and confusing to think about, and she was certain she'd find everything much less crazy if she just didn't dwell on it.

"Well, I don't know about having an artist's eye, but I guess I can make a decent picture on the top of a latte," Neal said after a moment, as though he'd reconsidered his curt answer. "Maybe they'll take me on at Granny's. I know Tamara always says that-" He trailed off, a bitter chuckle falling from his lips. "I guess I shouldn't trust anything she said."

"Yeah, maybe not," Emma agreed under her breath, although she wasn't quiet enough to not be heard. Killian seemed to be trying not to smirk, his lips pressed together as though he was holding in a laugh, although Emma could tell he was surprised by her muttered comment.

Neal sighed heavily. "I guess I should, uh, apologise for all that. Maybe all this wouldn't have happened if I'd just listened to you.."

"You loved her," Emma excused half-heartedly, feeling like she _had_ to say something even if she didn't mean it. "You thought you knew her."

"I'd known her about six months," Neal mumbled. "I shouldn't have been so-"

"About six months?" Emma repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. " _Months_?"

As irritated as she was that Neal had been so insistent on Tamara's innocence, she had to admit that she wasn't too surprised that Neal's relationship had become so serious after such a short time. The same had happened when they were together, when he'd suggested them finding a home in Tallahassee after they'd been together only a few months.

She'd always understood why he seemed so eager for his relationships to move quickly. Back then, when they were together, she'd felt the same, snatching at the opportunity to finally be a part of something, to have a family.

Clearly, Neal hadn't learned what she had, that, however wonderful someone seemed, a few months wasn't long enough to really know them.

"Come on, you can't have known Hook much longer."

"Yeah, but we're not engaged," Emma protested weakly. Maybe she had known Killian just as long as Neal had known Tamara, but she highly doubted that they'd been through what she and Killian had. Perhaps she didn't know everything about Killian yet, but after everything, she knew enough to trust him, to love him.

Although, she supposed Neal could have thought the same about Tamara.

"If you're going to apologise for anything," Emma continued quietly. "Maybe it should be that you brushed aside _everything_ I said by convincing yourself that I was just jealous."

She hadn't meant to say that, had wanted to avoid making things any more uncomfortable than they already were, but if Neal _was_ going to start apologising, she would appreciate an apology for the way he'd treated her after he arrived in Storybrooke.

Neal seemed speechless, and Killian appeared equally uncertain about what to say. The proud smile he'd worn as he spoke with Neal about his life in New York had vanished, as though he'd suddenly remembered that Neal wasn't just Milah's son but was also the person who'd set her up to go to jail.

"How much further?" Emma asked, deciding to change the subject instead of letting things get more uncomfortable. "It feels like we've been walking for hours."

"We haven't passed Echo Cave yet," Killian answered, when Neal didn't seem like he was going to. "So there's still a long way to go. I'd say another few hours at the least."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear, but she just kept walking.

She wasn't sure how long had passed before Killian spoke, as she had only focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but it felt like it had been a lengthy silence and it was startling to hear Killian's voice break it.

"We have to stop," Killian stated, coming to a sudden halt. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his alert gaze fixed on the bushes on the left of the narrow path. "I think I heard something."

"Heard something?" Emma repeated. "Heard what?"

Killian raised an eyebrow, and Emma grimaced at the realisation that it was exactly what she _didn't_ want it to be, Lost Boys. She copied Killian, drawing her cutlass and pointing it in the direction he was looking in.

There was a loud holler and then several boys leaped out from the bushes, some wielding clubs, some with knives. It felt like there were more of them than there had been the last time they attacked, although that was because there was barely any space on the path after they attacked, the boys crowding around them and whooping as they attacked.

Killian was parrying their attacks, using his hook to catch any weapons that got near him. Neal seemed equally as adept at keeping the Lost Boys at a distance, although his attacks seemed clumsier than Killian's.

At first, Emma just used the weight of the cutlass as her weapon, attempting to club the boys away. She managed to knock a few away, and then she felt a sharp tug on her head. She twisted round to see one of the boys gripping her hair. She dropped her cutlass to the ground and resorted to her usual, scrappy way of fighting, knocking the boy's arms away and lunging at him. She was reluctant to actually hurt him, well aware that he was about the same age as Henry, but she couldn't let him reach her. She focused on dodging his attacks, grabbing at his wrists and trying to stop him from hitting her.

And then a boy hooted, and they immediately disengaged. The boy shoved her aside and followed the others as they sprinted back into the jungle.

Emma took a deep breath, taking Killian's hand when he offered to her and letting him pull her back to her feet.

"Are you alright?" she asked, glancing over him. He seemed fine, if a bit dishevelled, but she wanted to be certain. "You were fighting quite a few of them."

"I'm fine," he promised. "A few Lost Boys are hardly enough to best me. You?"

"Maybe a bit bruised but nothing serious."

"You're sure you didn't get caught by their weapons?" he checked. "You're rather clumsy with a sword."

She nodded, releasing his hand so she could bend to pick up her abandoned cutlass, sliding it back through her belt so it was resting at her side. "Well, it's not like it's something I regularly used back in Boston," she excused. "It's a shame I can't just shoot things. It would make things much easier, although I doubt I'd feel comfortable putting bullets in pre-teens."

She let Killian look her over for a few more minutes, his hand running over her arms as though searching for any cuts or injuries she hadn't noticed, and when he seemed satisfied, he looked over his shoulder at Neal. "Bae? How about you?"

Neal shrugged in response. Emma assumed that meant he was fine.

"What the hell _was_ that?" she asked, peering past Killian and into the jungle after the Lost Boys. "Why did they just run away?"

"It was a distraction," Neal told her. "Pan's trying to slow us down."

"Why? What does he need time for?" she wondered. "If he just wanted Henry to be a Lost Boy, he wouldn't need to do that, right? He'd just want to get rid of us. If he's trying to buy time, doesn't that mean that he's going to do something and it doesn't matter if we're here or not, as long as we don't reach Henry before he does… whatever it is he wants to do."

"I know Pan was looking for a specific boy," Neal stated. "I mean, that was why I got away from them. I wasn't who they wanted. Maybe it's Henry, although I don't what that would mean. Pan kind of kept quiet about what he wanted the boy for. Hook, do you know what he wants?"

"I did what Pan wanted me to do," Killian replied. "I wasn't privy to his plans."

"Let's keep going," Neal decided, and Emma followed the two men along the narrow, root-covered path. "If Pan's got the Lost Boys after us, we want to get to Dark Hollow as soon as we can. They don't go near there, so we'll be safe. From them, anyway."

~~~*~~~

"Here," Neal announced, after they'd walked for another few hours and ducked underneath a heavy fern. "It's here."

Even if Neal hadn't told her, Emma was pretty certain she'd have realised. As they wandered downhill into the hollow, the temperature dropped several degrees and the air seemed to grow thick with magic. She felt stifled, claustrophobic, despite the space around her.

She hadn't known magic could feel like that.

Neal had told her that Dark Hollow was the darkest spot on the island, and although Emma could see around her, she understood why. It seemed as though most of the moonlight couldn't reach them, the light that _was_ illuminating the hollow a dim red, the shadows so dark they seemed almost solid. The lantern Neal was carrying barely seemed to light the space around them, its glow swallowed into the darkness.

"So this is where the victims of Pan's shadow reside," Killian muttered, his words muffled by a shriek of wind. "I had heard having your shadow torn from you was painful, but if Felix truly wanted to make an impression, he should have mentioned the eternity of darkness you'd be condemned to. Let's make sure not to stay here any longer than we have to, shall we?"

When Neal came to a halt, Emma assumed they'd reach the darkest point. She settled back against a fallen tree and watched as Neal rested the backpack on it, handing Killian the lantern so he could start to rifle through their things and find the coconut.

"So are we just going to _wait_ for Pan's shadow to show up?" she asked, as another gust of wind swept through the hollow and blew out the lantern. "Couldn't we be here for ages?"

"Yeah," Neal said shortly. She didn't know if he was answering the first question or the last, or maybe both, but neither one inspired much confidence. Especially now that they didn't have any light. "When it does come, we'll be prepared."

"So, do you want to tell me how this coconut works?"

"We light the candle and the shadow is drawn to it," Neal told her. "It gets close enough and the flame will suck it in. Put the lid on and then it's trapped inside this bad boy."

It sounded completely ridiculous, but Neal had escaped from the island once before, so she assumed he knew what he was talking about. She wondered how he'd managed to figure it out in the first place, because from what he and Killian had said, she doubted he took many trips into the hollow to try different ways.

Unless he'd been so desperate to escape, he was willing to risk his life on the chance that he'd figure it out on the first try.

"Sounds like a fine plan, except for one thing," Killian stated, raising the unlit lantern towards Neal. "Our lantern went out. How the devil are we going to ignite that thing?"

Neal chuckled, drawing a silver lighter out of his back pocket and holding it out to Killian. "How about this?" he suggested, smirking when Killian shrugged. "I guess having the occasional cigarette comes in handy."

"Occasional?" Emma repeated, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," Neal replied, shrugging. "Come on, have you even seen me light up? Besides, it's worked out for us, hasn't it?"

She couldn't argue with that, and with the clicks of the lighter the only sound in the clearing, Emma started to explore the small space, searching for anywhere that might provide cover when the shadow arrived.

Emma considered drawing her cutlass, but even if she could use it properly, she doubted it would be much use on a shadow.

"How's it coming over there, guys?" she called, glancing briefly over her shoulder to see that they were still leaning over the coconut and rolling her eyes when she heard Killian muttering suggestions to an exasperated Neal.

"Yeah, fine," Neal replied sharply. "Just give me a second."

"Perhaps if you-"

"It's _my_ lighter, Hook," Neal snapped, cutting Killian off before he could finish his suggestion. "I can do it. It's just a bit temperamental sometimes, but I'll get it lit."

Killian raised his hand and his hook in surrender, stepping back from Neal without looking away from the magic coconut. Another several clicks, and then Emma heard a celebratory whoop, turning to see Neal holding the bottom half of the coconut in his hands, a flame flickering in the centre of it.

"And now we wait?" Emma asked.

"Yeah," Neal stated. "Now we wait."

It felt like they were standing in the hollow for ages. Emma hated how little control they had over what they were doing, just waiting until Pan's shadow felt like returning to its hideout. She was too aware that each minute that passed was another minute Henry had spent with the Lost Boys, another minute she wished they hadn't wasted.

A cool breeze danced through the clearing, the coconut's flame flickering as it passed. Emma drew Killian's jacket tighter around her, trying to keep the wind away as it grew more forceful, whistling as it moved through the trees.

And then the shadow was there, swooping down on them in one last gust of wind and extinguishing the flame. Neal cursed, his thumb pressing repeatedly on the wheel of the lighter as he tried to relight it. Killian cupped his hand around the coconut, trying to shield it from the wind.

Emma started towards them, her hair flying in front of her eyes so she struggled to see what was going on. "That's it, right?" she yelled. "Pan's shadow?"

"Yeah," Neal shouted back, his gaze suddenly moving past Emma and fixing on something behind her, his eyes widening in horror.

"What about _those_?" Killian asked. "I thought we only had Pan's shadow to deal with."

She glanced over her shoulder, jaw dropping at the two shadows that were flying towards them, their arms outstretched towards them. She turned away, starting to run back to the others.

"We do. It's controlling them." Neal explained loudly. "I think they'll go away once we've trapped it."

"You _think_?"

Neal ignored him, his gaze darting back towards Emma. "Emma, duck!"

She followed his orders, dropping down to a crouch and watching as two more shadows rushed passed her. One lifted Killian into the air, throwing him back into a tree and starting to pull at his shadow, the other forcing Neal in the other direction, the coconut falling from his grasp and onto the ground.

"Killian!" Emma cried, each of his screams ripping into her, almost physically hurting her. " _Killian_!"

"Emma, get out of here!" he managed, each word forced out between anguished grunts and yells. "Go! Save yourself!"

She got to her feet, but she refused to run away. Instead, she sprinted for the coconut, dodging Pan's shadow as it tried to bear down on her. She snatched it up and darted back into the cover of a fallen tree, her eyes never leaving Killian.

He screamed again, his shadow visibly being pulled from him, and she _had_ to stop it. She couldn't bear another cry, another wince, so she closed her eyes and focused, concentrating only on lighting the candle and making his pain stop.

Her magic welled up inside her, the constant warmth that thrummed through her boiling into an intense heat. She opened her eyes, stared at the wick in the middle of coconut and just let go, the candle setting alight as she exhaled.

She didn't even need to move, the coconut pulling the shadow into the flame the moment it lit. It shrank, spiralling downwards, and Emma slammed the top down over it, trapping it in the coconut. The moment she did so, the two other shadows shrieked and flew away, Killian tumbling down to the ground in front of her.

Keeping her hands tight around the coconut, she rushed over to him, kneeling at his side. "Are you okay?" she asked desperately, searching him for any signs otherwise. "Are you… You're okay, right?"

"I'm fine, love," he told her breathlessly, and although Emma knew she should turn around and check on Neal, she couldn't look away from him. "You made sure of that."

Emma only moved her gaze away from his when Neal joined them, plucking the coconut out of her hand and then retreating to the other side of the clearing, to his backpack, where he started to wrap the trap in twine.

"Emma?" Killian whispered as he pushed himself up so he was sitting instead of lying on the ground, and she looked back at him. Now that her hands were free, she could reach out towards him and she did just that, one hand cradling his face, the other resting against his arm. He turned into her touch, a soft, awestruck smile on his face. "That magic… you're incredible."

"Not really," she muttered back, grinning when he shook his head. "It's not like… You were in trouble. Lighting that candle, well, it was easy."

His smile grew even more tender, understanding clear in his eyes, and she felt her breath catch. Did he know? Did he know what she felt for him, how important he was to her? And if he _did_ know, did he expect her to say it?

She drew back slightly, her hand caressing his cheek as she moved away, but Killian followed her, leaning towards her and reaching out, his hand sliding into her hair and gently pulling her back towards him. She let her eyes close, falling into him when he kissed her. It was light and soft, and she breathed him in, forgetting Neverland and Pan and magic coconuts, only feeling him.

Emma wasn't sure which of them broke the kiss, both of them seeming to move away at the same time, but they didn't part. They remained close together, his forehead pressed to hers, his hand still tangled in her hair.

"You needn't worry about me, Swan," he murmured, each word brushing her lips. His hand left her hair, glancing down her arm before he took her hand in his, lifting their joined hands between them. He released hers only for a moment, to press something into her palm before lacing their fingers back together.

It felt like a ring, the chain it was hung on slipping between her fingers and back around Killian's neck. She didn't look down at it, still revelling in the closeness of Killian, but she knew what it was. It was the old silver ring he often hid beneath his shirt, one of the last things she would take off when they were together, and she didn't understand _why_ she was holding it, but she tightened her grip anyway.

Killian's lips brushed hers again, so quickly she wasn't sure if he'd even meant to kiss her, although she responded with another, and she lingered just long enough to feel him lean in, to feel his hook rise and tangle in her hair.

And then he finally spoke again, even quieter than he had been before. "I'm a survivor."

~~~*~~~

The three of them left Dark Hollow and walked for another couple of hours before stopping for the night. None of them had been particularly eager to continue travelling after trapping the shadow, but they didn't want to stay in the darkest spot of the island, especially when they didn't know if the other shadows were able to come back and attack without the command of Pan's shadow.

They settled in a clearing, Neal in charge of making the fire as Killian and Emma laid out the three blankets, and once they were done, Neal sat on his blanket and started picking the raisins out of the trail mix.

"How about a sword-fighting lesson?" Killian suggested, once it seemed like neither of them were immediately going to lie down and go to sleep. "We know Pan's trying to delay us. If the Lost Boy's attack again, perhaps it would help for you to have covered some of the basics?"

"Alright," she agreed, despite the fact that she just wanted to sit down and rest her feet. She knew Killian had worried about her in their fight with the Lost Boys earlier, and if a short lesson would reassure him, she could wait a bit longer before finally sitting down.

She drew her cutlass from her waistband and watched as Killian adjusted her grip on the hilt. Once he seemed satisfied with her hold, she felt his hook press gently against her left hip, nudging her back so that she was angled to the left, her right foot out in front. She probably could have figured the stance out on her own, but she was more than happy to let Killian instruct her. She was enjoying his hands-on approach too much to do otherwise.

"It's all about the wrist," he told her, his voice a low whisper in her ear. "That's what I was told when I first began to learn how to use a sabre. The stronger your forearm, the more control you have over your wrist and over the weapon."

"Right," Emma muttered. "And then what?"

"Find a target," he ordered, and Emma focused on the nearest tree. "And then, use your wrist to move the sword backwards and forwards."

His hand was still over hers on the hilt, and she hadn't expected him to move their hands suddenly, but he tilted their hands forward, the sword slicing down in front of her, and then drew them back to the original position.

"What you want is to be able to do this fast enough, from any direction," he stated. "You want to be able to go from parrying an attack to thrusting forward without too much effort. Practice this, and you'll be more able to do that."

He repeated the action a few more times, angling the strike from various directions - down from the left, up from the right - and then he released her hand, watching her expectantly as though he wanted her to just keep repeating the motion.

"What? You're teaching me techniques?" Emma asked disbelievingly. "That's great and all, but I don't think it'll help much against the Lost Boys."

"Having a good understanding of how to use a sword _will_ help," Killian pointed out. "Besides, I'd hardly manage to make you an expert in a short lesson. Whatever I could teach you, it wouldn't be any more help than your current approach of brawling with them. Not after one day. Swordsmanship is an art, love, no matter how skilled your father is at making it look otherwise."

"Or maybe a million years of practice has just made you all stuck up about it?"

Killian shook his head, a grin splitting his face. "I'm not 'stuck up', Swan. I just know what I'm talking about," he teased. "I'm not denying that your father's very talented, considering he just picked up a sword one day and started slicing at dragons, but he hasn't studied it the way I have. Before I was a pirate, I spent plenty of time-"

"Building strength in your wrists?" she interrupted, a cheeky smirk lifting the corner of her lips.

Neal barked out a laugh, starting to choke on whatever snack he'd been eating, spluttering out a few coughs before he relaxed. Killian looked taken aback by her comment, but after Emma bit her lip and raised her eyebrows expectantly, he chuckled.

"You're impossible," he told her fondly. "Now, do you want to keep practicing or would you rather take the same approach as your father?"

"Right now?" Emma replied. "I think I'll stick with the brawling. Besides, if I ever do get into a sword fight, I just want to get the pointy end into the other guy, right?"

"No," Killian said firmly. "You aim to do that, and it's just as likely they'll do the same to you. You should concentrate on _not_ letting them get their blade near you."

She nodded, tucking the blade back through her waistband, and when she looked back up at Killian, he seemed hurt that she didn't want to keep practicing. He turned away and started to move towards his blanket, but Emma grabbed his arm before he could.

"Hey, Killian," she muttered. "It's not that I don't want you to teach me, I do, but after today, I just want to sit down. Besides, when you _do_ teach me again, I'd prefer a bit more privacy. I think I might learn a bit better with your hands on me."

That seemed to cheer him up, a salacious grin spreading across his face as he drew his gaze slowly up her body. "I look forward to it."

"You guys?" At the sound of Neal's voice, Killian rocked away from her and grimaced, as though he'd forgotten that Neal was with them. "I was going to go to sleep, but I thought maybe one of us should keep watch. I mean, the Lost Boys attacked us before. We don't want them to do it again when we're all asleep."

"I'll keep watch first," Killian volunteered. "I'll wake you up in a few hours, Bae."

Neal nodded, and then he rolled onto his side, facing away from them. Emma glanced from him to Killian, confused. "What about me? I can keep watch while you guys sleep. It's not like I'm tired. I can look out for the Lost Boys."

"Emma, I know how little you've been sleeping," Killian told her, leading her over to her blanket before he sat on his own. "Take advantage of this time to try and rest."

She didn't bother lying down, choosing instead to move across the clearing to join Killian. She sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I'm not going to rest," she admitted quietly. "I'm not tired. I'm not going to get to sleep."

"You slept last night."

"Yeah, well..." She turned her head to press a kiss to his shoulder, hiding her coy smile in his jacket. "You tired me out. I was all relaxed. After Dark Hollow, I'm not feeling that anymore."

"Sweetheart?" he asked carefully, his arm rising to wrap around her shoulder. "When was the last time you slept through the night?"

The question came as a surprise. For a moment, she didn't answer, but Killian's expectant gaze didn't waver. "I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "I think… after what happened to August? I drank a lot of rum and slept for hours."

"And without a few drinks?"

"With you," she said honestly. "After the Enchanted Forest but before Cora. When I stayed with you on the Jolly Roger?"

"I remember," Killian told her. "You woke before dawn and left. That's hardly sleeping through the night."

"I had to get back to the loft so I was there to take Henry to school," Emma protested. "It wasn't like I just… woke up and walked away."

"You didn't sleep through the night," Killian pointed out. "That doesn't count."

"Okay, fine," Emma mumbled, but after that, she stayed quiet. She didn't want to admit to the answer, not when she'd just realised that the most recent time she remembered actually waking up after sunrise was before the curse broke, the night Killian convinced her to stay. "It's been a while. I just don't want to waste time sleeping when I could be saving Henry. I can't lie down and stop thinking about what we have to do. I close my eyes, and I don't sleep. I just worry."

"And before that, you needed to investigate Tamara or Cora or you needed to return to Storybrooke. There's always something."

"And I'm used to that," she reassured him. "It's not like sleep helps much anyway. I wake up and I don't feel any different. I'm just as tired as I was before."

"Emma, that isn't-"

"I'll sleep when Henry's safe," she promised. "When we're back in Storybrooke and he isn't in danger, maybe I'll be able to sleep then."

"You can sleep now," he told her. "I know you want to save Henry. I know you feel like every second we're not searching for him is a second you're wasting, but it'll be much harder to defeat Pan if we're exhausted. We're staying in this clearing for the night. There's no reason for you not to sleep."

She couldn't argue with that, and when Killian didn't speak again, she allowed her eyes to close, focusing on the warmth of him, on the way his thumb was stroking her arm, on the kiss he brushed to her hair.

And then she slept.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Emma was woken by someone shaking her shoulder, and after stifling a yawn, she glanced up to see that it was Neal who had forced her awake. She blinked, surprised that she'd even needed waking. She was still resting against Killian's shoulder, his head on hers, and she dug her elbow into his side to rouse him. He grunted, mumbling something into her hair, and then he straightened up, moving away from her and groaning when he stood up.

She winced, her neck twinging with pain as she watched him start to put the unused blankets away, his arm anchoring the fabric to his chest as he used his hand to roll them up. As nice and warm as it had been, sleeping at Killian's side, it hadn't been the most comfortable position. She tried to massage her neck and soothe it, but she couldn't help but be slightly distracted by Killian, her gaze lingering on him as he stuffed one blanket into the backpack and then stretched, pulling his shirt tight across his chest for a few seconds.

"Didn't you want to lie down when you went to sleep?" she asked. "After you finished keeping watch?"

"Aye," Killian told her. "But lying down didn't seem worth it when you were finally sleeping. I didn't want to move and wake you."

She smiled gratefully up at him, and he responded by offering his hand to her, tugging her up from the ground. Emma stumbled into him, his hook at her back and holding her to him.

"Did you sleep well?" he continued, a frown creasing his eyebrows when Emma tilted her head to look up at him and groaned at the stiffness of her neck. "Or, at least, as well as can be expected when in Neverland and sitting upright?"

"Better than the last few days," she assured him, hiding her grin in his shoulder as he brushed a kiss against her hair. "You?"

Killian shrugged, and Emma shook her head in disbelief. He shouldn't have suffered through an uncomfortable night just to keep her sleeping, not after the number of times he and Neal had insisted that they needed to be well-rested to survive the island.

"Honestly, love, I'm fine," he promised her, clearly able to read her thoughts on her face. "I've slept well the last few days, and I spent more than enough time in bed at the hospital. You needed rest far more than I did, and I was more than happy to help with that."

His words filled her with warmth, and she tilted her head back even further, ignoring the ache in her neck, and met his gaze, silently requesting a kiss. Killian grinned, granting her request with a quick press of his lips to hers.

"Good morning," she murmured against his lips, feeling his smile widen. "And thanks."

"You guys, are we going?" Neal interrupted, the backpack on his shoulders, one eyebrow raised. Emma stepped quickly away from Killian, turning to give Neal an apologetic look.

Emma couldn't meet his gaze. She'd forgotten he was there, been distracted by Killian and his embrace, and she wasn't sure how she felt about having Neal as an audience to their morning kisses. "Yeah," she said eventually. "Yeah, we're going."

She waited for Neal to start walking before reaching back towards Killian, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth when she felt his fingers fold around hers, the two of them walking side-by-side as they followed after him.

Perhaps it was the fact that she felt less exhausted than usual, but she was unusually optimistic that morning. Once they got the shadow to Tinkerbell, they'd be able to infiltrate Pan's camp, get Henry and return to Storybrooke. As they trudged through the jungle, she allowed herself to believe briefly that everything would be easy, that she, Henry and Killian would be back in Storybrooke by the following day.

It would be wonderful to have Henry safe and happy and far away from Peter Pan. Once they got back to Storybrooke, she'd take her son out for lunch at Granny's and then she'd do whatever he wanted, even spend hours reading the storybook. It felt like it had been weeks since she last managed to spend time with him, when it was just her and him and she wasn't worrying about something else.

Although things were unlikely to be simple. Regina would want time with Henry too, as would Neal, and she wasn't looking to the arguments that were bound to come from that.

At least, in Storybrooke, Neal wouldn't always be around.

They took a break after an hour of walking, and once Emma mentioned that she might have pulled a muscle in her neck by leaning against Killian's shoulder all night, he spent the remainder of their break trying to make her feel better. His fingers stroked up and down the nape of her neck before he started pressing gentle circles into the muscles, massaging her until the stiffness and the pain was almost gone. She wasn't able to subdue any of the sounds Killian's fingers drew from her, noises she'd have much preferred to have made in private, and it seemed like her very vocal appreciation for Killian and his hand was the last straw for Neal.

"I know you want to have another quickie with Hook," he spat, "but I'd like to save my son."

She refused to respond, although she couldn't stop Killian from snarling back that there was nothing wrong with Emma taking a moment to relax, especially when they were all taking a break anyway, and it didn't change the fact that finding Henry was everyone's top priority.

Neal looked sheepish, but he didn't apologise.

After that, the walk was spent in an unpleasant, heavy silence. Neal's comment had made her furious, but she was uncomfortably aware that, even if he weren't her ex, he _had_ just found out his fiancée was playing him so the closeness she shared with Killian was probably not something he wanted to see. Not that trying to be reasonable made her less angry, but it was enough for her to keep her outrage to herself.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the treehouse, glad that it wouldn't just be her, Killian and Neal anymore. David and Mary-Margaret were sat together near the ladder, not talking, and Tinkerbell was pacing back and forth, stopping when she saw the three of them walk into the clearing.

"It's about time," the fairy said loudly. "We were starting to think you weren't coming back."

She hadn't needed to be told that, not when Mary-Margaret and David had both stood up and hurried towards her the moment they saw her arrive. She let them hug her, both of them holding her tighter than usual. "Neal said it would be an overnight trip," she reminded them. "It didn't take any longer than that."

"We were still worried," David told her, finally pulling away from the embrace and sending a pleased grin over her shoulder, to Killian. "Tinkerbell told us just how dangerous the shadow could be. It's good to see you're alright. All three of you."

They didn't waste any more time talking. Neal showed Tinkerbell the twine-wrapped coconut and then the fairy started to lead them back into the jungle, this time towards Pan's camp. Neal and Tinkerbell were in the lead, the two of them exchanging surprisingly lively conversation.

Mary-Margaret held Emma back as David and Killian followed the others, her hand on her arm, and she didn't speak until the two men were several feet ahead of them. Emma wasn't sure if they'd even noticed them hanging back, because they were both distracted by a conversation that had started out as a step-by-step narration of Dark Hollow, although from what Emma could hear, it had turned into Killian rhapsodizing about her magic as David listened eagerly.

"David told me that he can't leave Neverland," Mary-Margaret began, interrupting Emma's eavesdropping. "He told me that you knew."

"Not for long," Emma said quickly. "And not because David told me. I think if David had had his way, none of us would've known a thing."

"And I made sure he knew exactly how I felt about that." The scowl on Mary-Margaret's face was all Emma needed to know about that conversation. "We've spent the last few hours talking about it. About what you and Hook did for him. If he can't leave-"

"We don't know that he can't leave," Emma interrupted quickly, not wanting Mary-Margaret to believe that they'd doomed David to forever in Neverland. "It makes things more difficult, but we aren't going to leave him behind. We're going to find a way to save him. Take some of the water with us so that-"

"David told me," Mary-Margaret repeated solemnly. "It's wonderful to see you being so optimistic, Emma, but maybe you were right when we were on the Jolly Roger. Maybe good people _are_ just naive enough to think things will work out for the best."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"We can only take so much water back with us," she explained, as though Emma didn't know. "If we don't find a way to save him, he'll run out of time."

"Leaving him here, alone, with Pan, is just as much of a death sentence," Emma protested, choking over the last few words. She didn't even want to think about David dying. She hadn't even considered that Mary-Margaret wouldn't be as desperate as her to find a way to get him home and keep him alive. "We can help him."

Mary-Margaret took a deep breath, finally slowing to a complete stop. Emma did the same, turning to face her and feeling dread rise through her at Mary-Margaret's grim expression. "He won't be alone."

"What?"

"I can't risk losing him, Emma," Mary-Margaret said simply. Emma couldn't meet her eyes anymore, not when she suddenly knew exactly what Mary-Margaret was going to say and it already hurt. "What if there isn't a way to save him? He can't go back to Storybrooke just to die."

"But we don't know-"

"And I can't leave him behind."

"So you're going to stay here with him?" Emma asked quietly, resigned to hearing her friend, her _mother_ , tell her that she was going to choose someone else over her. "You'd prefer to stay in this place than try to save him?"

Mary-Margaret reached out to Emma, but she stepped away, her jaw clenched. "The thought of leaving you, Emma, it kills me. But there's nothing we can do."

"Nothing? Come on, you don't know that! You haven't even tried," Emma snapped, ignoring how Mary-Margaret was shaking her head. "You're just giving up. Family means being together, all of us, and you're just… Maybe it's you rubbing off on me, but _I_ can't give up. I can't believe there isn't a way to save David."

"Emma-"

"No," Emma interrupted. "No. You know how I feel about it. If you decide to stay, if you and David decide to stay, then remember it wasn't me who gave up. It wasn't me who chose to split us up. It was you."

She stormed off, leaving Mary-Margaret behind her. So much for wanting to be her parents, she thought. They were just like everyone else, ready to walk away from her the moment things got difficult, and she shouldn't have expected any differently.

It didn't take too long to catch up with David and Killian. The two of them were still talking cheerily, although the topic of discussion seemed to have moved on to David's various battles with dragons. Emma had enjoyed their comradery before, but seeing David so upbeat stung when she knew what he and Mary-Margaret were planning.

"Emma!" David said brightly, beaming over at her once she had reached Killian's side. "I hear you pretty much caught the shadow all by yourself. First Maleficent and now this? I was just telling Hook that if I were Pan, I'd be shaking in my boots. Does he wear boots?"

"I never paid much attention to his footwear," Killian answered. "Perhaps he wears sandals."

"Right," Emma snapped, ignoring their looks of confusion. "It's nice to see you're thinking about things that really matter."

She grabbed Killian's hand and marched him away, leaving David all alone, although she figured Mary-Margaret would catch up with him soon and he'd forget all about Emma.

"What's going on?" Killian asked warily, glancing over his shoulder towards David before fixing Emma with a concerned stare. "Are you alright? Has something happened? You look-"

"No," Emma answered bluntly. "No, I'm not okay."

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing, and she knew he wanted to know what was wrong. She wanted to tell him, but she just wasn't sure what to say. She needed to calm down, to think clearly about what Mary-Margaret had said and what she thought about it, not just her knee-jerk response to the announcement.

But it seemed Killian knew she wasn't ready to talk about it. He squeezed her hand gently and then bestowed her with a small, comforting smile.

"Whenever you're ready," he muttered. "You can tell me."

She leaned into him, his hand leaving hers so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders and hold her close, Emma's arm going easily around his waist. They walked side-by-side through the jungle, Killian using his hook to hold branches away.

They stopped when they reached Neal and Tinkerbell.

"Are we near?" Emma asked, peering past the two of them to try and see what they were looking at. "What are you looking at?"

"I don't know," Tinkerbell whispered. "We heard something. I thought we should wait and see if it's anything we need to worry about."

"We're in Neverland," Killian commented, drawing his cutlass and pointing it in the direction that Neal and Tinkerbell were looking in. "We need to worry about everything."

Neal barked out a quick laugh just as the leaves rustled in front of them, and whatever Emma's feelings were towards David and Mary-Margaret, she was relieved when they finally arrived in the clearing with them, drawing their weapons without question.

The leaves moved again, but instead of Lost Boys leaping out towards them, it was Regina and Rumplestiltskin.

Emma hadn't expected to see either of them until they were on the Jolly Roger and heading back to Storybrooke. She'd figured that the two of them would materialise in a puff of smoke on the deck and act like they'd been essential to saving Henry, even if no one had seen them doing anything.

"You," David said, dropping his weapon back to his side.

"Yes, us," Regina stated bluntly. "And it looks like we got here just in time. What is this? A rescue party?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, except _we_ actually have a chance."

Regina glanced pointedly at Rumplestiltskin, and Emma watched as he held his hand out, his fingers curled around a small box with a red gemstone set into the top. "Pandora's box," Rumplestiltskin explained, his lips curling when Neal scoffed in disbelief. "It could trap Pan for eternity simply by opening the lid."

"Pandora's box?" Killian repeated, one eyebrow raised. "Do we really want to trap Pan in there for the unknowing to set free in the future?"

"I won't allow anyone to find it in the future," Rumplestiltskin drawled. "Perhaps it's not the murder you had in mind, but it'll get him out of the way. It's a better plan than the one you seem to possess, which seems to be to simply walk in and hope for the best."

Killian grimaced, staring down at the box in front of him. "It says 'open me' on the lid. That's just asking for trouble." Emma narrowed her eyes, trying to see the words Killian had read aloud, but all she could see were symbols that she didn't understand. "Then again, I suppose we could throw it into the sea once he's inside it. That should keep it out of the grasp of others."

"How does it work?" Neal asked. "Isn't Pandora's Box the thing that let all the evil things _out_ into the world?"

"Yes, but before it did that, it contained them," Rumplestiltskin told him. "That's what it's meant to do. I can use it, Bae. You just need to trust me."

"Do you need magic to use it?"

"No."

"Okay, so then you tell me how to use it and we can carry the plan out from there," Neal demanded. "You don't need to be the one to do it."

"As I said, you just need to trust me."

"Well, I don't." Rumplestiltskin seemed taken aback by Neal's conviction, and although Emma agreed with the impatience clear on Regina's face, she had to admit she would feel far more comfortable with the dangerous magical box out of Rumplestiltskin's hands. "The last time we did _anything_ with you, you found a loophole in a deal you'd made and crushed a woman's heart in front of us."

"Bae, please-"

None of them had expected Neal to reach out and snatch the box from Rumplestiltskin's grip but he did just that. He lifted it slowly in front of him, twisting his hand around as he examined all six sides. "If Pandora could use it without instructions, I probably can too," he said lightly. "So now here's the deal. You don't use magic. You don't find loopholes. You help. If you do that, maybe one day I'll trust you. If not, well, you said this thing was powerful enough to trap Pan. I'm sure it can hold you."

"Bae, I can't agree to that," Rumplestiltskin pleaded. "You don't understand who you're up against. You need my magic to even stand a chance."

"Then help me understand," Neal ordered. "Why does he scare you so much? What makes him more powerful than the Dark One?"

"Peter Pan destroyed my father."

There was a surprised silence. Whatever past Rumplestiltskin and Peter Pan shared, she hadn't expected it to be anything like that. Neal seemed uncertain what to say, silently repeating the word 'father' as though he didn't understand what he'd just heard.

He shook it off. "Whatever he did, it doesn't change things. You can use magic, but only if Emma and Regina can't do what we need." He swung his backpack off one arm and stuffed Pandora's Box into it. "Tink? Lead the way."

~~~*~~~

With Regina and Rumplestiltskin back with them, the atmosphere surrounding the group seemed even colder than it had been the rest of the day. Emma doubted Neal's ultimatum to his father had helped with that, although, as they wandered deeper into the forest, it seemed like they were actually speaking more than they ever had since Neal came to Storybrooke.

Unlike Neal, Emma wasn't speaking to her father. Or her mother.

Instead, she chatted briefly with Regina, wanting to find out what she'd spent the last few days doing. Regina refused to tell her much, only that she'd joined up with Rumplestiltskin soon after abandoning them and that they'd somehow asked for Lacey's help to retrieve Pandora's Box.

She'd also mentioned a mermaid named Ariel, and although that had given Emma pause, she was starting to get used to hearing the names of Disney characters in regular conversation.

After that, Regina hadn't seemed interested in talking to her and she'd hurried off to the front of the group, starting a whispered conversation with Tinkerbell. The moment Regina moved away, Killian took her place.

"Belle helped?" he asked, frowning when Emma nodded in response. "How did they manage to reach her from this realm? How is she?"

"I don't know. Regina didn't say," Emma told him. "I bet she's fine. I mean, Cora's gone, Tamara and Greg are… wherever Regina put them, and Regina and Rumplestiltskin are with us. Storybrooke's probably the safest it's been since I arrived."

"Knowing Belle, she'll be worrying about all of us. I'm sure she will have been glad to hear from one of us."

"Even if it was her murderous ex?"

"Belle's one of the most forgiving people I know," Killian said fondly. "Even if she, understandably, doesn't want a relationship with the Dark One anymore, she'll want him to be alright. When we all get back to Storybrooke, remind me to thank her for helping. As uncertain as I am about the use of Pandora's Box, it's a much better plan than the one we had."

Considering that they hadn't thought any further than reaching the camp and somehow getting Henry back, she had to agree with him. Not that that was the thing she was focusing on. Her mind was stuck on the word 'all', too aware that there wouldn't be nine of them returning to Storybrooke.

"It won't be all of us," Emma muttered. She glanced up at Killian, biting her lip when she saw the concern in his eyes. "I mean, it won't be all of us going back. To Storybrooke."

Killian shook his head, reaching out to take her hand in his. "We've almost got Henry back, Swan," he assured her, lifting her hand to brush a kiss to her knuckles. "There's no need to lose hope now."

"I haven't lost hope," she said quietly, "but David told Mary-Margaret about everything. They aren't going to come back with us."

"What?"

"Mary-Margaret would rather stay here with him instead of trying to save him," she told him, the same anger that had risen through when Mary-Margaret told her was already simmering through her again. She scowled at the memory, hating the way she so easily felt like she wasn't good enough. "As long as they're together, I guess no one else really matters."

"David hasn't mentioned anything to me," Killian murmured. "Perhaps Mary-Margaret is still reacting to what's happened. She hasn't exactly been given much time to think about the possibilities, and even then, whatever they decide to do is hardly a simple decision to make-"

"He'll stay if that's what she wants," Emma stated, her voice trembling. "Maybe I was being selfish. The only thing we know for certain is that David will live if he stays here. Mary-Margaret said she'd rather stay in this hell with him than risk his life trying to find another way to save it. I don't want to lose anyone else, but maybe staying in Neverland is what he should do. _They_ should do."

Killian surprised her by tightening his grip on her hand and dragging her off the narrow track. They didn't go far, stopping just behind the nearest tree, standing in ferns and grass as high as her waist.

"Killian, what are you doing?" she hissed, peering around him to try and see the path. "We can't just stop! We don't want to get left behind."

"We can stop for a few minutes," he promised. She was going to protest, but when she met his gaze, he canted his head to the side and released her hand so that he could cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that she hadn't even realised had fallen.

He was waiting for her to talk to him, and even though she still wasn't sure how well she could put her thoughts into words, she decided it didn't matter. If anyone was going to understand what she was feeling, it would be him. He usually did.

"I don't want to lose them," she admitted quietly, looking away from Killian's sympathetic gaze. "I don't want to be left again. I know I told them that I didn't need parenting, but I didn't mean that I don't need them. I just…"

"What?"

"I don't understand. They were so happy when they remembered me. They told me that we were a family. That they'd waited for so long for us to finally be together, and they aren't even willing to try and stay that way. I mean, they asked me to trust them when they wanted to use Jefferson's hat to stop the trigger destroying Storybrooke, even though that meant risking everyone's lives just to make sure Regina wouldn't die. And I did, even though if it didn't work, everyone would die. _You_ would die. And Henry would be left alone. They risked _everyone's_ lives to save Regina, but they won't risk anything for me?"

Kilian clenched his jaw, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. She leant in, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, the words spoken into her skin. He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to.

"It's not like I'm asking them to come back to Storybrooke and just _wait_ until David's time runs out. I'm going to do whatever it takes to find a cure for him. I guess that's just not as reassuring as sending a crystal through a magic portal hat. And the thing is, if it were just David, I'd understand. I wouldn't like it, but it's _his_ life. If he wants to stay, well, we made the decision that trapped him here. What he does with that should be his choice. But Mary-Margaret too? I mean, I know they're true love but…" She paused, unsure if she should continue, but when he titled his head to the side and raised his eyebrows expectantly, she kept talking. "If it were _you_ , and if you didn't want to risk dying back in Storybrooke, I wouldn't stay. I'd go back with my son."

"If it were me, I wouldn't want you to stay. I wouldn't want you to be trapped in this hell with me." He hesitated for a moment. "And I'm sure that Dave-"

"I'd miss you," she continued, reaching up to clutch at his arms desperately, needing him to know that saying goodbye to him would be one of the hardest things she would ever have to do. She'd done it before, she knew how much it would hurt. "More than _anything_. I wouldn't stop finding a way to save you, but I wouldn't stay. I'd be with Henry. I wouldn't leave him alone."

"And I would never expect otherwise," he told her. "However, I don't have to stay and you don't have to worry about saying goodbye. Not to me. As for everything else, I wish I knew what to say to make things better. Perhaps if we show them that we have an idea of how to start searching for a cure, it will be harder for the two of them to justify remaining here?"

"But we don't have an idea," Emma pointed out. "I don't even know where to start. I mean, if it wasn't some freak Neverland poison and was just a normal everyday poisoning, I'd just get him to the ER and hope they had an antidote around, but I don't think things will be that easy with Dreamshade. I doubt Storybrooke General will have an antidote on hand."

"How do people find antidotes to a poison?"

"I don't know. Get the poison and do some experiments on it?" she suggested, speaking louder and faster as she started to develop an idea. "Maybe if we bring some Dreamshade back with us, someone might be able to figure something out."

"I already have Dreamshade," Killian admitted. "I spent some time wondering if Dreamshade would work on the Dark One, so I have a concentrated dose in my safe on the Jolly Roger. We don't need to risk anyone else getting infected in an attempt to gather more of it."

"Okay," Emma said slowly. "So, maybe we give that to Doctor Whale and see what he can do? I mean, he made Frankenstein, right? If he can do that, he's probably good enough at science to give the whole 'finding an antidote' thing a try."

"Or you could ask my Papa." Emma hadn't expected to hear Neal's voice behind her, and she released Killian so that she could rub any remaining tears away from her eyes before facing Neal. "He might be able to help."

"Eavesdropping isn't exactly good form, mate," Killian pointed out angrily, spitting the word 'mate'. "If we wanted you to be involved in this conversation, we'd have told you."

"I wasn't eavesdropping," Neal said, rolling his eyes. "It's hard _not_ to hear your conversations when you're only just off the path and I happened to walk past. "

Emma wondered when he'd started listening, hoping desperately that it was only after they'd begun to talk about Dreamshade. She didn't want Neal knowing how she was feeling or what she was thinking. That knowledge was just for Killian, something she had shared with him in what she had assumed was a private moment.

But, whatever he'd heard, it was a good suggestion. Emma didn't understand what being the Dark One meant, but she knew how powerful Rumplestiltskin was. If anyone could save David, it was him. If both Rumplestiltskin and Doctor Whale worked on a cure, there was a good chance that one of them would find _something_.

"The problem with asking Rumplestiltskin is that the last time I asked for his help, he wouldn't even tell me how to save Henry until I agreed to a deal. And then he pushed Killian into the path of a moving car and demanded I leave town that morning." Emma told him bluntly, refusing to explain any further even though Neal looked confused. "You think Rumplestiltskin will actually help without demanding anything in return?"

"I think he might if I ask him to," Neal answered. "He wants me to forgive him for everything? Finding a cure to Dreamshade would be a good start."

She glanced back at Killian to see what he thought about the idea. He seemed to be considering it, his lips pressed tightly together, and then he nodded. "It's still not a guarantee for David, but with the Dark One and the doctor assisting in our search, it would be foolish not consider returning to Storybrooke," he murmured, as though trying to keep his reassurances private. "I'll let him know that things won't be so uncertain on his return."

He led her and Neal around the tree, back to the worn path, and then he pressed a kiss to her cheek and started after David. Emma considered catching his arm and holding him back, doubting that his conversation with David would only be about their return to Storybrooke. Then again, if Killian wanted to be angry with David, she wasn't going to stop him.

Emma sighed, staring after Killian. Even though she had expected him to understand, she hadn't expected him to make her feel _better._ He'd prompted her into coming up with a solution and, although she thought she shouldn't have to provide Mary-Margaret and David with a well thought-out plan in order for them to trust her, Killian had given her hope that they'd change their minds.

"I didn't know that David had been-"

"Go talk to your father," Emma ordered before Neal could finish speaking. "We need to know he's going to help."

For a moment, it looked like Neal was going to say something, but Emma fixed him with a glare and he decided otherwise, hurrying off after Killian. Emma followed him, stepping carefully along the uneven, root-strewn path until they caught up with the others.

Emma and Neal emerged into a clearing just in time to see Killian leading David to the side, the other four conferring in the centre. Neal joined them, but Emma took a moment to watch the two men talking. She wasn't sure what Killian was saying, but David seemed to be protesting, looking from her to Killian as he spoke quickly, and soon Killian was shaking his head and patting David on the shoulder.

Killian joined the others, but David crossed the clearing to Emma, his arm going around her shoulder and briefly squeezing her against his side. "I'm sorry," he told her quietly. "I don't know what Snow told you, but don't worry. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

~~~*~~~

Emma could see the Lost Boys through the leaves. After Tinkerbell had told them they were almost at Pan's camp, they'd quickly gone over the plan and now, she and Killian were huddled behind a large fern and waiting for Regina and Rumplestiltskin to send the boys to sleep.

"I can't even see Henry," Emma whispered, trying to get a better view of the camp without rustling any leaves. "How many Lost Boys are there?"

"Enough to make me wish you still had a cutlass," Killian muttered, glancing down at the sword in his hand and grimacing. Emma had given him her sword after Rumplestiltskin took his, although Killian still seemed unhappy with her decision.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You're the one who knows how to use one. It makes more sense for you to have mine than for David to give you his. Besides, if everything goes to plan, no one should even need to draw a weapon."

"I know," he admitted. "However, the last duel that began with Rumplestiltskin using _my_ sword was the dawn of one of the worst days of my existence. As certain as I am that you'll succeed, I can't deny that it puts me ill at ease."

"Don't worry," she insisted quietly. "We have a way to save David. We're about to save Henry. Today isn't going to be a bad day. Everything'll be fine. _I'll_ be fine."

She wasn't sure if she believed her own words, but she wanted to reassure him. He smiled softly, but she was sure he knew that she wasn't convinced by what she was saying. He didn't get a chance to comment, a cold rush of wind, of magic, surging past them.

Emma spun around, glancing through the leaves to see that all the Lost Boys were slumped over, a few of them snoring, and after watching them closely for another minute, she pushed her way through the bushes to finally step inside Pan's camp.

"Where's Pan?" she whispered, unable to see his irritating face amongst the Lost Boys.

Neal shrugged. "I don't know."

"Not here," Killian confirmed, stopping in front of the tallest Lost Boy and glaring down at him. "And without his second -in-command. Unless there are some more recently acquired Lost Boys, it appears we've taken them all out in one spell."

"If Pan's the only one missing, Henry should be here," Emma said. "He has to be _somewhere._ "

Assuming that the magic would stop the Lost Boys from waking, Emma gave up on being quiet. She started rifling through the camp, searching for any clue to Henry's location, although she was already certain he wasn't there. Henry's red plaid shirt would have stood out, even in the darkness of Neverland.

The others started to examine the clearing, but Emma left, following one of the many muddy paths out. It didn't go far, leading into a small glade lined with bamboo cages.

Emma wasn't sure she wanted to know what Pan used them for.

She stepped closer, bending down to peer into the nearest. Her jaw dropped at the sight of a girl crouching in the far corner, her hair tangled and her eyes wide. The girl gaped at her, and after a moment, the girl scrambled closer, her fingers curling around the cage bars.

"You're a… an adult," she breathed, staring up at Emma as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Yeah," Emma said gently, stepping a bit closer. "My name's Emma. I'm looking for my son. Have you-"

She stopped speaking when the girl suddenly focused on something over Emma's shoulder, shrinking away from the cage wall. Emma sent her what she hoped was a reassuring smile before turning to see what had frightened her.

It was Neal, looking just as shocked as the young girl did. He moved towards the cage, nudging Emma aside before he knelt in front of it and started trying to unknot the twine keeping the cage shut. "Wendy?"

The girl inhaled sharply, inching back towards Neal and narrowing her eyes at him. "Do I know you?"

"It's Baelfire."

Emma still wasn't used to running into characters she knew only from stories. Neal and Wendy - _Wendy_ \- kept talking, but Emma was just trying to get her head around everything. It had been strange enough to hear Regina mention the Little Mermaid, or to hear Neal admit that he'd basically lived the first few scenes of Peter Pan, but she hadn't expected to meet Wendy Darling in Neverland. From the look still on Neal's face, neither had he.

For a few seconds, Emma stood awkwardly to the side while the two of them spoke quietly to one another. Neal kept asking if Wendy was alright, what Pan had done to her, as he tried to loosen the knot holding the cage shut.

He didn't manage to undo the knot before the others pushed through the leaves and filed into the glade. As irritated as Regina looked when she entered, her face lit with hope at the sight of the cages and she rushed over towards Emma. "Is it Henry? Have you found him?"

"No," Emma answered quickly before Regina could interrupt Neal and Wendy's conversation. "Not Henry."

"Then who is it?"

"Wendy Darling."

"Darling?" Killian had joined her, looking curiously past Emma to the young girl in the cage. "Why would she be here? As far as I was aware, she and the rest of her family were the one's Bae wanted to return to. They weren't in Neverland."

Emma raised an eyebrow, nodding over at Wendy's cage. "Yeah, well, that's changed."

Neal drew everyone's attention by cursing loudly, apparently unable to undo the knot keeping Wendy imprisoned. Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat. "Perhaps now would be a good time to use magic?" he suggested, ignoring Neal's frustrated scoff. "All I need to do is wave my fingers."

"Or I could," Regina interrupted, raising her hand to wiggle her fingers pointedly in Rumplestiltskin's direction.

Killian rolled his eyes and strode over to the cage, angling his hook so that it was between the twine and cage and then he jerked the hook down, slicing through the twine. He didn't say anything. With the smug grin on his face, he didn't need to.

He stepped aside, leaving it to Neal to swing the cage door open. As soon as it was open, Wendy clambered out and wrapped her arms around Neal. He returned the hug for a few moments before gently pushing her away, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Wendy, what are you _doing_ here?"

"Well, I… I came back to save you," she said earnestly.

"You did that for me?"

"I couldn't bear for you to be without a family," Wendy told him. Neal swallowed loudly, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder at his father and then at Emma before meeting Wendy's gaze. "Not after you told us that your mother and father were both dead."

"You told her I was dead?" Rumplestiltskin interrupted.

Neal ignored him. "Hey, Wendy, since you've been here, have you seen my son? He's called Henry."

"You have a son?" Wendy asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Neal said, sounding just as surprised as Wendy. "Yeah, I do. And he's here. Do you know where he is?"

"No!"

She had answered quickly, her head shaking from side to side, and Emma grimaced at the lie, narrowing her eyes at the young girl. She took a step closer, deciding to ask again and give Wendy another chance to tell the truth before she had to demand it.

"She's lying," Rumplestiltskin snarled before Emma could speak. He stepped threateningly towards Wendy, only stopping when Neal nudged Wendy behind him and fixed his father with a stern glare. "Where is he?"

"Hey," Emma said warningly. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I've carried enough lies in my life to recognize their burden," Rumplestiltskin said, his dangerous expression still fixed on Wendy. "She knows where Henry is."

"I know," she told him. Rumplestiltskin seemed taken aback, as though he'd expected everyone to fall for Wendy's obvious lie. "But you don't need to frighten her."

She turned her back on Rumplestiltskin, raising her eyebrows at Neal, silently asking if he could step aside. Neal glanced over his shoulder at Wendy and then he shuffled out of the way.

"Wendy? Do you know where Henry is?" she asked gently. Wendy swallowed and refused to respond, her gaze locked with Emma's. There was a determined glint in her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together, and Emma couldn't understand why she was working with the boy who had imprisoned her. "Why are you helping Pan?"

"You don't understand!" Wendy protested, glancing pleadingly at Neal. "I _have_ to. He's keeping John and Michael alive, but only if I do as he says."

"Trust me," Rumplestiltskin said, moving to Emma's side. Wendy shrunk away from him, scowling at the Dark One. "Whatever he's promised, he will go back on his word."

"And why should I trust you? Baelfire doesn't."

Rumplestiltskin's lip curled. "Because your brothers did. They trusted a woman named Belle. They helped her get something that will allow us to defeat Pan."

"They're okay?"

"For now," Rumplestiltskin said pointedly. "If we don't succeed, they won't be. If you don't tell us where Henry is, your brother's deaths will be _your_ fault."

"Papa!" Neal snapped. "Look, Wendy, we _will_ save John and Michael, I swear to God. They were my family too, and I won't let Pan hurt them. You _know_ I won't. That's not going to change if you don't tell us. But I need to find my son and I need your help to do that. Please."

Wendy nodded. "Pan told Henry that he needs his heart to save magic," she began.

Emma exchanged a panicked look with Regina. "He told Henry that?" she asked. "That he needs him to save magic?"

If Pan _had_ told Henry he could save magic, Emma felt frighteningly certain that Henry would agree to whatever Pan asked. He would want to be the hero, he'd want to help, no matter what would happen to him. She knew that. He'd already risked his life once to save everyone. He'd do it again.

"But it's a lie. He needs it to save himself."

"What do you mean?"

"Pan's dying," Wendy told them. "He needs the heart of the truest believer to absorb all the magic in Neverland. And once he does… he will be immortal, all powerful."

"And what happens to Henry?"

"Well, it's a trade." Emma had expected that answer, although she would have preferred an answer that sounded less damning. "When Pan lives, Henry will die."

For a moment, Emma felt like she was back in the loft watching Henry collapse to the ground, like her world was falling apart. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, her mind racing as she tried desperately to remind herself that they could still stop it.

She'd know if Pan succeeded. She'd feel it.

Killian came to her side, his hand warm at the small of her back. His touch wasn't enough to stop the panicking, but it grounded her, calming her enough to start thinking clearly. "How do we stop it?" she asked. "How do we stop Pan?"

"Pan took Henry to Skull Rock, but you haven't got much time."

"Okay, so where's Skull Rock? Can we get there soon?" Emma turned to look at Killian as she spoke, directing the question to him. Killian nodded. "Right, well, let's go."

"Someone should stay with the Lost Boys," David pointed out. "We don't want them to wake up and come after us."

"I'll stay," Killian volunteered. Emma frowned and spun to look at him, shaking her head. Surely he was going to come with her? "Dave, you and Mary-Margaret should return to Dead Man's Peak and collect as much springwater as you can carry."

"We're splitting up?" Emma said disbelievingly, her frown deepening. "No. We should all-"

"If Rumplestiltskin's plan doesn't stop Pan, we need to get out of Neverland as soon as possible." Killian's voice was gentle, his hand drawing light circles on her back. "Unless David gets water from the spring, he won't be able to return with us. They need to fetch the water. He's right, though. Someone should keep watch here."

"So it's me, Regina, Neal, and _Rumplestiltskin_?"

"I'm the most powerful one here," Rumplestiltskin said. "If things with Pan don't go as smoothly as planned, you'll want me with you."

Emma couldn't argue with that.

They decided not to leave immediately, taking a few minutes for Neal to redistribute the contents of the backpacks. Wendy stayed at his side as he worked, the two of them exchanging quiet conversation. Emma stayed at the edge of the clearing, fidgeting impatiently as she waited for the others to be ready, barely listening to Killian as he tried to give David and Mary-Margaret directions back to the magic spring.

Killian left her side only when Neal waved him over, and Mary-Margaret instantly stepped up beside Emma.

"Emma, honey?" Mary-Margaret said hesitantly. Emma turned her head to face her, grimacing at the understanding, sympathetic smile gracing her mother's face. "I just wanted to say something before everything."

"Look," Emma snapped, feeling slightly guilty when Mary-Margaret flinched backwards. "I don't really feel like talking."

"I know you're on edge right now," she continued, ignoring Emma's sigh. "We all are. I just felt like I needed to tell you something before we all split up."

"What?"

"I have to thank you for not giving up on our family. On us." Mary-Margaret reached out for her, laying her hand gently on Emma's arm. Emma stared down at her hand, unsure why Mary-Margaret was insisting on having the conversation now. Maybe Emma's pessimism had rubbed off on her, and she wanted to try and clear the air between them just in case everything went wrong and she didn't get another chance. "And I have to say sorry because I did."

"Yeah, you did."

"I'm not done," Mary-Margaret said gently. Emma tried to push her impatience aside - talking with Mary-Margaret wouldn't delay them, not when they were already waiting for a few minutes - and although she couldn't bring herself to smile, she was able to meet Mary-Margaret's gaze. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about what you said before you made Pan's map work. Every time we've taken a break, whenever we'be been walking, it's been on my mind."

"So what do you want to say?" Emma asked warily, remembering how painful that conversation had been. "What bit have you been thinking about?"

"You said you weren't a hero and then you said that you weren't what David and I wanted." Mary-Margaret bit her lip, suddenly struggling to meet Emma's eyes. "I did want you to be a hero. I risked a lot to try and make sure you would be one. Even before you were born, I… It doesn't matter what I thought. I'm your _mother_. I shouldn't have made you think you weren't enough because that's not true. I love you. I'm sorry if you ever doubted that."

Emma swallowed, unsure how to respond. She knew what Mary-Margaret wanted her to say, that her words fixed everything, that she loved her too, but she couldn't tell her that. She couldn't voice the words, couldn't even figure out whether or not she'd be lying if she did.

"I'm glad I don't have to leave you." Mary-Margaret's last words were so quiet she almost couldn't hear them. She walked away once she finished speaking, crossing the clearing back to David's side.

It seemed like it was almost time to go. Neal had passed one of the backpacks over to David and he seemed to be shoving the last few blankets into the remaining bag. Once he finished, he placed the shadow trap carefully inside the bag and handed it to Killian.

Emma wandered over towards the two men. "Are you ready?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah. I'll just give you guys a minute and then we'll go, okay?"

She nodded, waiting for Neal and Wendy to get a few steps away before she turned to Killian. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? I'd like it if you could."

"I know," Killian said, sidling closer and sliding his hand down her arm to tangle his fingers with hers. "But as I said, someone needs to remain here. You, Neal and Regina should be the ones Henry sees rescuing him. You're his parents."

"You'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine," he promised. "I'll see you, and Henry, back on the Jolly Roger. There's no need to waste any time worrying about me. Now, please, take this."

He released her hand so that he could offer her the cutlass back. She was reluctant to take it from him, unwilling to leave him without a weapon, but she didn't know what she was walking into and she didn't want to go somewhere called 'Skull Rock' unarmed.

She curled her fingers around the hilt, holding the sword loosely at her side. "Thanks."

"And one more thing." He lifted one of his necklaces over his head, holding the chain out towards her. Emma stared at it, unsure why she was looking at the old ring he always wore, and then he inched closer and draped it over her head. The ring fell to just below her breasts, the chain much longer than the other ones she wore, and she glanced down at it when Killian reached for it, his fist closing around the ring. "For luck."

Emma nodded, her throat thick. She didn't understand exactly what the ring meant to Killian - he'd never told her why he always wore it - but she knew it was important.

And he was lending it to her.

She reached up to him, her free hand cupping his cheek, and then she rose onto her tiptoes to slide her lips over his. It was only meant to be a quick kiss, a goodbye, but when she started to pull away, she paused, lips hovering close to his. If things went wrong, this could be it, their last moment together, and at that thought, she stopped caring that the others were standing nearby and kissed him again.

It seemed to take him a moment to realise that she wanted more, but once he did, she felt his arms close around her waist, holding her tightly to him. She moved her hand away from his cheek, burying it in his hair and tugging on it, as though she could somehow pull him even closer. He deepened the kiss, and Emma gave up trying to stay steady, letting him hold her up as she focused on memorising his kisses, on the way he tasted, the way his arms felt around her.

Someone cleared their throat and muttered something about them putting on an unwanted show. Emma didn't appreciate the interruption, so she kept kissing Killian for a few more seconds before she pulled away.

Once she'd stopped kissing him, she was aware of the others watching them. She glanced over her shoulder, grimacing at the surprise on Mary-Margaret's face and the way David seemed to be looking anywhere but at them.

Emma unnecessarily adjusted Killian's shirt collar, staring there instead of meeting anyone else's gaze, and then she glanced back up at him. "I'll see you later?"

"Aye."

He sounded certain, so sure that she'd succeed, but hours later, at Skull Rock, Henry's heart in Pan's chest, all Emma knew was that she'd failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again - I'm going on holiday (on Monday!) and then immediately starting a full-time job, so it might be a while.


	49. Chapter 49

** Chapter 49  **

Even though Emma had seen the whole thing, she couldn't believe what had just happened. Crouched at her son's side, she couldn't stop thinking of the last five minutes, couldn't stop wondering if she could have done something differently. She relived it in slow motion, how they'd finally made it through Pan's barrier and into Skull Rock only to see Henry standing with him. She'd tried, they'd _all_ tried, to convince Henry that Pan's lies about magic were just that. Lies.

He hadn't believed them. She couldn't understand what Pan had done or said to make Henry trust him over the pleading of his parents, but despite their desperate cries, Henry had done exactly what Pan wanted. He'd used the magic Pan had loaned him to rip his own heart from his chest and plunged it into Pan's, a cold wind blasting out from the teen just as Henry dropped to the floor.

Emma only spared a brief look at the smug grin on Pan's face, seeing it only for a second before she ran to her son's side, her knees skidding on the rough floor when she collapsed down beside Henry and started to shake his shoulder as though that would be enough to bring him back.

"Oh God," she said, her voice breaking when Henry showed no signs of waking up. "He isn't… He's just unconscious, isn't he?"

Regina and Neal were talking too, Regina's hand tight around Henry's, but Emma wasn't listening to either of them. She was busy staring up at Pan as he flew near the rock ceiling. He swooped down when she caught his eye, landing lightly a few feet away from them.

He opened his mouth to speak, most likely to say something irritating and self-congratulatory, but Emma didn't give him the chance. "What the hell did you do to him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything, Emma." Pan stepped closer, pressing his hand against his - _Henry's_ \- heart. "It was Henry. He offered me his heart of his own free will."

"I'm going to take it back from you."

Her threat made Pan laugh, but the laughter stopped when she stood up and drew her cutlass, lunging towards him and slicing the blade through the air. It didn't do anything, the boy vanishing the moment the cutlass was about to touch him.

She heard him behind her, just a few quiet noises as he moved, and she spun to face him, her cutlass shaking slightly in her grip as she pointed it towards him.

He wasn't readying an attack. Instead, he was picking up something from a nearby rock, holding it in such a way that she could see what it was: Pandora's box.

"I don't think you have it in you," he said confidently, smirk widening when Emma faltered. She knew enough about the box to know it was dangerous, and in Pan's hands, it was sure to be even worse. He knew where she was looking and he tilted his hand so that she had a clear view of the box lid, of the red ruby and the engraved symbols, and then started to juggle the box between his hands, taunting her. "Rumplestiltskin didn't. Why should you?"

Emma hadn't even thought of Rumplestiltskin until Pan mentioned him, too distracted by everything else, but she should have. He'd gone into the cave ahead of them, able to get inside without having to hide his already-removed shadow, and even though Emma detested him, she hadn't argued when he talked Neal into giving him Pandora's Box back.

She should have realised something had gone wrong the moment she saw Pan.

"Where is he?" Neal was the only one concerned. Emma struggled to care for Rumplestiltskin on her best days, never mind when she had just watched her son give his heart away. "What did you do?"

Pan had clearly been waiting for that question. His unpleasant smirk grew impossibly wider. "Oh, he's right here in this box." He tossed the box into the air one more time, shaking his head in amusement when Neal tried to snatch it back. "Safe and sound. And out of the way. Unfortunately for you, he can't hurt me anymore. And neither can you."

"Really?" Emma rushed towards him, tilting her hand enough to bring the cutlass slicing down towards Pan, the way Killian had taught her. It didn't miss, cutting a fine red line into his arm. "How did that feel?"

"Like a tickle," Pan said, but he retreated into the air and flew from the cave, out of one of the skulls eye sockets.

She didn't bother to watch him leave. It wasn't as if she could fly after him and take Henry's heart back - she didn't know how to do either of those things. Instead, she turned her attention back to Henry, watching Regina's hand as it stroked her son's hair.

"How is he?"

"I don't know." Regina seemed as irritated by her answer as Emma was, a heavy sigh falling from her lips. "This isn't something I've seen before."

"Something you haven't… Oh, come on. Aren't you an expert on the whole heart-taking thing?" Emma asked desperately. She needed Regina to know what to do, to have some idea of how to save Henry. "I thought people could survive without a heart. Graham did. David did. Why is Henry like _this_?"

"If you haven't noticed, Miss Swan, it looks like this case is a bit different. Remember what Wendy said? That it was a trade?"

"So what does that mean? That we've failed?" Emma shook her head. "I refuse to accept that. I'll do whatever it takes to save him and I'm _not_ going to fail."

"Neither am I." Regina's hand finally left Henry's hair, a blue glow engulfing the boy as she waved it over him. "I'm going to find Pan, take the heart back and stop the trade from happening. Henry's still breathing. It isn't over yet."

"Right. Good," Emma muttered. "And that spell? What was that for?"

"It's a preservation spell. It will keep him in this condition for a while longer. Buy us time to get Pan."

"And then we'll take the heart and get the hell out of Neverland. With or without Rumplestiltskin."

"And if he's too powerful?" Neal asked, holding his hands up placatingly when both women turned furious glares towards him. "Look, I hate to be the pessimist here, but I know Pan better than you two. He was powerful enough _before_ he took Henry's heart. Now? He'll be even stronger."

"It doesn't matter," Regina said. "He may be powerful, but you shouldn't underestimate me. I find ways to get what I want, and if I want Henry's heart, I'll make sure I get it."

"I'll help," Emma promised her. "But talking about what we're going to do isn't much good. Even with the preservation spell, we don't know how long we have. We need to hurry it up."

"We don't even know where to start!"

"Neal?" she asked. "You were right. You know Pan better than us. So stop using that as an excuse to give up and _help_ us. Any idea where he went?"

"I'm not finding excuses." Neal looked furious at the suggestion, taking an angry step towards Emma. "I want to save Henry just as much as you do, but you need to know what we're up against. He was only trying to delay us the last few days. We go after him now, you'll see how powerful he really is. And I don't know where he'll be. I know where he lived, but-"

"We _all_ know that." Regina sent Neal an ugly look as she interrupted him. "I doubt he's stupid enough to go back. Do you have any useful suggestions or are you wasting time?"

"Enough," Emma said sternly. They were all upset, all desperate to save Henry, and they were letting their emotions take over. They needed to be focused on saving Henry, not needling each other into an argument.

"Don't tell me what's enough. My son is dying!"

" _Our_ son. I know how you feel."

Regina shook her head, a bitter laugh falling from her lips. "You have no idea what I feel. You have your parents. You have him," she gestured over at Neal, " and you have a pirate who loves you. You have everything. You can't know what I feel. Henry is all I have. I can't lose him. He's _everything_."

Emma swallowed, sharing an uncomfortable look with Neal when Regina sobbed. She wasn't sure what else to say. She'd already suggested her plan to retrieve the heart, as ill-thought out as it was.

"So we save him," she said. "Hurting Pan won't be easy, nevermind stealing his heart, but we'll find a way. We just have to hope we _can_."

Her few words seemed to be enough. She watched Regina force her emotions aside, brushing her tears away as her expression hardened, and then the woman spoke. "We can hurt him. You already have." Regina pointed at the cutlass held loosely in Emma's hand. Emma glanced down to see blood drying on the blade. Emma tucked the cutlass back into her waistband and reached her hand out towards Regina, helping her back to her feet. Neal moved past them so he could lift Henry into his arms, Emma taking off Killian's leather jacket and carefully tucking it around their son. "You nicked him. However powerful he is, he can still bleed. And that means we can stop him."

"And we will."

~~~*~~~

Killian was the first person Emma saw when she finally pushed aside the branches shielding the Lost Boys camp from view. He was stood near the oldest-looking Lost Boy, watching him intently as Tinkerbell patrolled the rest of the area.

He only noticed her when she stepped on a stray twig, the crack it made as it broke alerting him to his presence. He abandoned his watch and hurried towards her, but he didn't reach. He stopped suddenly, his gaze locked on something behind her. Neal, she assumed, with Henry in his arms.

She watched as Killian swallowed, his hand clenching into a tight fist, knuckles white, and then he finally crossed the remaining distance between them

He stood barely an inch away, searching her expression as though trying to figure out what happened without her having to say it out loud. She couldn't hold his stare for long, and as soon as his concern started to make her want to let him in, to stop being strong for Regina and Neal and _Henry_ , she blinked and looked away.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" He said the words in a whisper, giving them as much privacy as he could when they were surrounded by Lost Boys. "What can I do?"

"His heart." Emma couldn't bring herself to go into more detail. He finally closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her, and she nuzzled into his shoulder, allowing herself a few seconds to react to everything. She restrained herself, refusing to let any sobs escape, but her breaths came quicker, a panicked rhythm muffled by his chest.

"I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, his mouth lingering, and she tightened her hold on him.

"I failed." She doubted Killian could understand everything she said, her words whispered into him. He only responded with another kiss, his hand rising to cup her head and hold her to him. "I couldn't save Henry. I can't save David. Henry believed I was the saviour and I've just… I couldn't even save him."

Killian drew back, looking confusedly down at her. "What do you mean? What _happened_?"

The question was directed to the others, but when Emma allowed herself to glance back over her shoulder, she could tell Regina was just as unwilling - as unable - to explain.

"What she means is that we weren't the only failures," Neal said. "My Papa had failed before the rest of us even made it into the cave. We don't know what happened, but we _do_ know that it isn't Pan inside the magic box. So basically, we don't have a way to trap Pan and we don't have a Dark One to cure David once we're back in Storybrooke."

"And Henry?"

"He's not… Regina bought us a bit of time. We get his heart back from Pan and he'll be fine."

 _He'll be fine_. Emma tried to force her emotions aside, determined not to let herself be distracted anymore. She hated feeling helpless, and as comforting as Killian's embrace had been, she didn't _want_ comfort anymore.

She stepped out of his arms, pressing her lips firmly together and folding her arms across her chest. Perhaps she didn't need to look strong around him, but she had to pretend she was, for Regina and Neal and, most importantly, herself, and she couldn't fool herself with Killian's arms around her.

"How much time do we have?" she asked.

Regina glanced over at Henry's body and grimaced. "You _know_ I'm not sure. Back in Storybrooke, the spell would last as long as I wanted it to, but magic is different here. And even it isn't, I've never used the spell on anyone whose heart isn't already crushed. I don't know how long Henry has. His heart _is_ still beating. I don't even know if the preservation spell will work against what Pan's doing. The faster we get his heart back, the better."

"That's great and all, but we don't even know where Pan is," Neal said. "He can fly. He could be anywhere on the island. It may be a small island but that doesn't mean we can search the whole place quickly. Not when we're on foot."

Regina let out a loud huff and then pushed passed Neal and Tinkerbell, storming over to the Lost Boys. Emma hurried after her, standing at her side as she glared down at the oldest of the boys, who was meeting her stare with a cruel smirk as if he were amused by their desperation.

"Where is he?" Regina asked.

The boy's smirk widened. "Gone." Emma wanted to grab him by the shoulders, shake him into being a decent person, but she didn't. She let him keep talking, despising the excitement in his voice as he spoke of Pan. "There's nothing you can do. He's already won. Pan never fails."

"Felix." Emma was surprised to see the boy react to Killian's low voice, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. She turned around to see Killian glaring down at him, his eyes dangerous and his fingers dancing along the curve of his hook. "Do you need me to remind you of Rufio again?"

Felix's smirk faded, but he still remained stubbornly, infuriatingly, silent.

"You won't talk?" Regina stepped forward, bending her knees as she reached out towards the boy's chest, her fingers curled into claws as they hovered only millimetres away from him. "How about I make you talk? I'm sure the Captain and I can get answers out of you."

Her hand moved even closer, but Emma darted forward and pulled it back. When she glanced over her shoulder, ready to send Killian a furious order to put his hook away, she saw he'd already lowered his arm back to his side. "Regina, wait," she said. "We can't torture them. They're _kids_ and… Well, they've been through hell already. We need to try something else."

"Even him? Do you really think he's going to respond to reason?"

"He's not the only Lost Boy."

"Why do you think the others will be any more helpful? What are you going to offer them?"

Emma hadn't really thought any further than not torturing the children, so she couldn't immediately answer the question. Regina raised an expectant eyebrow, her arms folded. Emma glanced around the clearing in search of a response, and it was only when her eyes fell on Neal, Henry in his arms, and then at Killian, that she knew.

She couldn't know the exact reasons any of the Lost Boys had joined Pan, but she could imagine what they might be. She knew exactly what it felt like to want to run away and find somewhere, anywhere, to belong. She'd searched for that her whole life, and although she couldn't understand what they saw in Pan that made them believe they'd found that with him, she _did_ understand why they were in Neverland with him.

Emma had been lost for years and perhaps she still wasn't sure if Storybrooke was where she belonged, with its evil witches and magic beans, but that didn't matter. She'd only needed to find Henry and Killian, as well as Mary-Margaret and David, to feel like she wasn't lost anymore.

She couldn't know where any of the Lost Boys would find what they were looking for but, whatever it was, they wouldn't find it with Pan, in Neverland.

"What every kid wants. A family." Regina still seemed doubtful that Emma would be able to get any information from the Lost Boys, but she stepped aside when Emma moved closer and knelt in front of the boys. "Guys, listen to me. We're not going to hurt you, okay? I know you're loyal to Pan, and I get that, I do, but you're making a terrible mistake. I was like you for so long. Lost. But I'm not alone anymore." Killian's hand was on her shoulder, David and Mary-Margaret were trekking to Dead Man's Peak so that they could all go back to Storybrooke together. "I have a lot of people who love me and I _never_ thought that was going to happen. If that can happen for me, it can happen for you."

A few of the Lost Boys exchanged looks, considering what she said, but most of them looked unconvinced. Felix shook his head. "Pan is the only family we need."

"Family?" Emma repeated. "Pan's not _family_. He doesn't care about you. He just cares about what you can do for him. Family doesn't do what he did. He lied to you and made you do terrible things. He lied to Henry and convinced him to give up his own heart!"

"To save the island," one of the boys said.

"No, to save himself."

"Don't listen to her," Felix ordered. "Pan cares about all of us."

"He doesn't." Emma hesitated. She wanted to offer them a way back to Storybrooke. Hopefully, the idea of finding a home or a family there would be enough to convince them, but she didn't know if she could promise them anything. Where would they go once they reached Storybrooke? She didn't want to bring them there only for them to end up staying with the nuns, without a home. But whatever reservations she had about the offer, if it was the right thing or not, she needed their help and she'd say what she needed to to get it. She wasn't even sure there was space for all of them on the Jolly Roger, but she only spared Killian a quick, querying glance before turning to the Lost Boys. "We care about you," she continued, "and we can save you. We can take you home with us. To our land. There's no reason to fear Pan anymore. Until he absorbs the power from Henry's heart, he can be stopped. We just can't do that unless you tell us where he is."

Felix knocked her backwards when he stood up, his fists clenched and fury written across his face. "Leave now," he said harshly, glaring down at her, "while Pan still allows you to breathe."

"Keep speaking to her that way and you'll be the one who isn't breathing." Killian had taken a couple of steps towards Felix when he stood up. Once his words had shut the boy up, Emma watched as Killian reached his hook out, threateningly close to Felix's neck, and grabbed the boy's shoulder to force him back to the ground.

"You're not going to hear another word. Not from me and not from anyone else."

Emma sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, through her hair, giving in for a moment to how tired and drained she felt. The more Felix spoke, the less time they had and the less hope she had that they'd ever get any information from the teenagers. Not that she was going to stop asking. "Where is he?"

Felix looked from Killian to her and smirked, his lips pressed firmly together.

Emma refused to give Felix the satisfaction of seeing her cry, although she had to look down at the ground and blink her frustration away. Killian stood stoically at her side, and Emma was glad he didn't kneel down to comfort her, didn't put his arm around her and try to make her feel better.

And then another Lost Boy spoke. "Can you really bring us home?"

Felix snapped something at him, but Emma didn't listen. She turned all her attention to the boy who had spoken, noting his wary gaze and the way he was wringing his hands together. "Yeah, we can. But you have to help us."

"He's at his Thinking Tree."

"Yeah, his Thinking Tree," another one said, nodding earnestly at Emma and ignoring Felix's yells. "It's where he goes when he wants to be alone."

"You can find him there. It isn't far."

"Can you tell us how to get there?"

The two boys glanced at each other then the first met Emma's eyes, his jaw set determinedly. "You have to swear that you'll take us with you."

Emma nodded hurriedly, unable to stop a few tears escaping when it sank in that the Lost Boys were going to help. That they were going to find Pan, and once they did, nothing would stop Emma from stopping him and getting everyone back to Storybrooke. "I promise."

"The tree's in the Pixie Woods. Just north of here. It's where the pixie dust used to grow."

She smiled at the two boys as she stood up. "Killian, you know where that is?"

"Aye," he said, his thumb brushing the tear tracks gently off her cheeks. "As far as I'm aware, the whole region is deserted. No one but Pan has set foot in those woods in centuries."

"So we make history." Neal carefully adjusted his hold on Henry as he spoke, but as grateful as Emma was that he seemed prepared to walk into whatever it was they were going to walk into, they couldn't all run off to danger.

"We're going to need you here, with Henry," Emma told him. "Once we get Henry's heart back, it's a race back. We need to be ready to get the hell out of here."

Neal nodded. "Okay. Hook and I will gather up the Lost Boys and get them on the Jolly Roger. We'll get the ship ready to fly."

"I'll stay here," Tinkerbell offered. "Someone needs to be here when Mary-Margaret and David get back from the spring. They get back and then we'll meet you on the ship. Where's it moored?"

Neal started describing the directions to Tinkerbell, but Emma focused on Killian instead. He had stepped closer, nudging her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes before placing his palm on her cheek, fingertips in her hair. "Neal can prepare the ship alone, if you want me to accompany you," he said softly. "I know you shouldn't require my help, but I'd like to be at your side. We don't know what's waiting for you in Pixie Woods."

"I don't want you to come with me." Her quick response surprised him, his eyebrows furrowing as he canted his head to the side, his expression curious. His fingers caressed her cheek as he started to draw his hand back, but Emma caught his wrist before he could move away. "No, Killian, I didn't mean… You said it yourself. We don't know what's in Pixie Woods and I don't want you walking any further into danger just for me."

"And I don't want you walking into danger alone. I want to be with you."

Emma bit her lip, glancing away from him for an instant. "It's not just that. I want you safe. I want Henry safe. But if anything does happen, I want you with him. You'll protect him, won't you?"

"He'll be with his father. I'm sure Bae will-"

"I don't care if Neal's there or not." She lowered her voice to a whisper, and Killian shuffled a few millimetres closer so he could hear her. "I love Henry more than anything and I'm not ready to trust Neal with something this important. You're the only one here who I… God, Killian, please don't make me ask again."

"I'll guard him with my life,' he said solemnly. Emma sighed in relief, an actual smile teasing the corner of her lips. "No further harm will come to him while I still breathe."

It was a dramatic oath but Emma could tell he meant every word. She had so many different replies on the tip of her tongue, ranging from an ill-timed declaration of love to a grateful kiss, but all she managed to say was "thank you".

He nodded. Emma released her hold on his wrist, ready to join Regina and start the journey to Pan, but he caught her before she could, his hand in her hair, holding the back of her head as he stepped close and kissed her temple.

Their eyes met in a wordless goodbye and then Emma blinked and walked away.

She glanced back a few moments later, as she and Regina were pushing branches aside and moving away from camp. Neal was shifting Henry into Killian's arms, shaking his own out once he was no longer carrying their son, and with a final long look at Killian, Henry safe in his arms, she followed Regina deeper into the woods.

~~~*~~~

Henry's heart was in Regina's hand, Pandora's Box in Emma's, as they raced back through the Dark Jungle towards the coast. They slowed every time they needed to leap over roots or duck under branches, Emma helping Regina over the most obstructive obstacles so that they didn't risk dropping the heart.

She had expected their encounter with Pan to take longer, that he'd be more difficult to defeat. Sure, he'd manage to trap them to a tree, apparently using their own regrets, but other than a few smug words and threats to their lives, he hadn't done anything else. Regina hadn't given him the time. She'd broken free of the vines and surprised the teenager - or, Emma supposed, not a teenager. Not when he was apparently Rumplestiltskin's father.

Emma hadn't been helpful. Regina's lack of regret had been what allowed her to escape. The vines had been tightening around Emma with every what-if and could-have-been she'd ever considered, every mistake she'd made holding her down.

Not that there was time to dwell on the past. Retrieving Henry's heart might have bought them more time, but they were still in a rush. Regina had left Pan unconscious and alive at the base of his Thinking Tree and they needed to get Henry, the Lost Boys and the Shadow as far from Neverland as they could before he woke back up.

She sped up as soon as she could see the silhouette of the Jolly Roger on the horizon, its mast only just visible above the trees. She stumbled out of the jungle, almost falling over as her foot slipped on the sand, and then almost flew across the last few metres between her and the gangplank.

"Henry? Where is he?"

"He's over here."

Finally on the ship, Emma searched for Neal. She glanced over several sitting Lost Boys, didn't even acknowledge that Mary-Margaret and David were on board, and then she saw him, knelt beside their son.

He moved aside when Emma and Regina reached him. Emma fell to her knees beside Henry and took his cold, stiff hand in hers, watching as Regina carefully pressed his heart into his chest.

It went back in easily, his skin appearing to ripple around it, as though Regina had simply put her hand into water and not into their son's chest, and when Regina drew her hand back, it didn't even look like he had ever had his heart removed and then returned to him. Another wave of her hand and the preservation spell glowed gold around him before dispersing.

She held her breath, her grip on Henry's hand tightening as she waited for him to react and wake up and be okay. She didn't know how long they'd been waiting, trying to reassure herself that it only _felt_ like several minutes. It couldn't have really been that long, not when he hadn't woken up.

"Are we too late?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Why isn't he-"

"Give it a bit longer," Neal said gruffly. He sounded closer than she expected, and she didn't even flinch in surprise when she felt his hand settle between her shoulders. He was using her to balance, supporting himself as he leant over her to look down at Henry.

Emma swallowed. She didn't want to wait any longer. She hated just watching and waiting, unable to stop herself thinking about what she'd do if Henry never woke back up.

She'd have to leave Storybrooke. It would be too painful to wander through the streets every day and remember the time she'd spent with Henry, how he'd believed in her and called her a saviour only for her to fail to save him. She'd take the storybook, she'd find every picture they had together and then she'd run. She'd be alone again, but she'd deserve to be if she couldn't even protect the person she loved most.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt Henry's hand squeeze hers, the movement weak but there, and she glanced at his face just in time to see his eyes open as he gasped back into consciousness. His chest was heaving, his eyes wide, and for a moment, he seemed unaware of where he was and what had happened, his breaths short and panicked.

"Henry, it's okay," Emma said gently. His gaze darted to her, he blinked, and then he realised where he was. "You're safe. You're going home."

He pressed his lips tightly together, blinking furiously as though he was trying not to cry, and then he sat up, reaching out for her and Regina. She met him halfway, her arms tight around him. Regina did the same, their arms crossing each other's as they both held Henry.

For a moment, Emma let her eyes fall closed and she focused purely on the fact that Henry was alive and holding on to her. She wasn't naive enough to assume he was fine. Whatever happened with Pan wasn't going to be something he would move past easily, but she knew that rescuing him and getting him back home would be a good start.

He was mumbling something, but with his face pressed to her shoulder, she could hardly make out the words. She drew back carefully, keeping her arms around him, and when she heard what he was saying, she struggled to keep her composure.

"I'm sorry," he was saying, over and over again. "I'm sorry."

He'd been through hell, but he was the one apologising. He'd been so brave, been through so much, and he was apologising to them even though nothing had been his fault. Nothing else even seemed important now that they'd found him.

She wasn't going to cry, even though her relief that it was all finally over was rising through her, almost overwhelming her. Instead, she just hugged him tighter, kissed his head and told him "It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

"I wanted to save magic," he told her. "I… I just wanted to be a hero."

"There's still plenty of time for that," David said reassuringly, kneeling down on the other side of Henry and patting his back. "Anyway, whatever happened, we're all going back and everything's going to be fine. You don't have to worry about anything and you _definitely_ don't need to apologise."

"What you need is rest." Mary-Margaret had joined in the conversation, and Henry pulled back from Emma and Regina so that he could look up at the others crowding around him.

"You're welcome to the Captain's Quarters, lad," Killian added. "As the guest of honour, you deserve the best room."

Neal helped Henry stand up, his gaze widening when Henry immediately hugged him. He shot Emma an uncertain look, his arms hovering awkwardly at his sides. Emma raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to return Henry's embrace, and after a few seconds, he bent to wrap his arms around his son.

Once the hug had ended, Regina offered to tuck Henry in. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder, tucking him against her side, and led him below deck. Emma watched them go, reluctant to let Henry out of her sight.

"Are you alright?"

Emma turned around at the sound of Mary-Margaret's voice, smiling weakly at the concern on her friend's face. "I guess." She shrugged. "I'll be alright once we're out of here. It's just… I know Regina helped us to get Henry back but I'm not so sure how I feel about leaving her alone with Henry. Before Neverland, that wasn't what-"

"After everything, it makes sense that you don't want to let Henry out of your sight."

That wasn't it. Regina may have helped, but her assistance had involved her ripping out not one but two hearts. It hadn't even been a week since she almost destroyed all of Storybrooke because she thought that Emma was planning on going to the Enchanted Forest with Henry and without her.

Henry had told her he wasn't ready to be alone with Regina, and the two women had found a way to make that work until Henry said otherwise. Emma didn't see why things should be any different now, at least without Henry saying so.

Especially when she'd just heard Regina admit to regretting none of her past deeds. Not the murders, not the curse, not destroying the lives and families of an entire kingdom.

"Yeah," she said eventually. "You're right. That's probably it."

She let Mary-Margaret pull her into a hug, although she didn't return it. "It'll be okay, honey. You got him back. He's safe now."

"I know." She drew away from Mary-Margaret. "But I'm not ready to let my guard down yet."

"Regina won't let anything happen to him."

Emma nodded. Regina might be willing to hurt others but she wouldn't knowingly hurt Henry. Not anymore.

And Emma knew better than most just how far Regina would go to keep him safe.

It wasn't as comforting a thought as she would have liked. As soon as Mary-Margaret had turned away, muttering something about making sure the Lost Boys were comfortable, Emma ducked through the door and followed after Regina and Henry.

Regina was laughing when she entered the cabin. Henry was wrapped in a blanket, watching his adoptive mother as she laughed. Despite the small smile on his face, he didn't look happy. Just exhausted. There were dark rings under his eyes, his face pale and drawn.

Emma hung back in the doorway for a moment, watching them. Regina kept touching him, brushing his hair back, cupping his cheek. Henry was barely responding, his head nodding forward each time he almost fell asleep.

"You can sleep in a moment, Henry," Regina said quietly.

Henry nodded and then Regina waved her hand over Henry's chest, engulfing it in a golden light. Emma didn't know what she was doing. When she saw Henry wince, Emma took a step into the room. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Regina didn't respond until she was finished, the golden light no longer surrounding Henry. "It's a spell," she told Emma, the rest of her words addressed to Henry. "So no one can take your heart again." He thanked her. Regina beamed at him, leant forward to kiss his temple. "We'll be home soon, my little prince."

She left Henry's side, crossing the room to where Emma was standing. Her face out of Henry's sight, she fixed Emma with an irritated stare, and it was only after she shook her head, she reluctantly strode past Emma and left her with Henry.

Before wishing Henry good night, she bent down to search through the drawers underneath the bed to fetch a second blanket. She knew exactly where Killian kept it, had watched him retrieve it once on the few times she'd stayed for most of the night. She doubted Henry needed it - Neverland was still as swelteringly hot as it always had been - but she wanted to do _something_.

Once the folded woollen blanket was placed at the end of the bed, she sat where Regina had been. "Just in case you need it," she said, nodding her head towards the blanket. "Sleep tight, kid."

They shared a smile, and she left him in the cabin. Regina was still there, standing beside the door. "You couldn't even let me have a moment with him?" she asked, as soon as Emma had closed the doors.

"I wanted to see him before he went to sleep." Regina rolled her eyes, but Emma didn't say anything else. She didn't exactly feel like getting into a discussion with Regina about why she had joined them in the Captain's cabin. "You coming?"

"Not yet."

~~~*~~~

"You ready to get out of here?"

Emma heard Neal speak the moment she returned to the deck, and she turned to see him leaning next to the door, juggling the coconut that held the shadow between his hands.

"Yeah," she said. "I think we all are."

"Well, we'll be out of here as soon as Regina resurfaces and we can get this ship in the air." Emma frowned at the words. If she'd known Regina was needed for them to finally get the hell out of Neverland, she'd have insisted on her returning to deck too. "Hook's getting the ship ready for take-off if you're looking for him."

She hadn't been, but she followed Neal's state to see him and David adjusting one of the sails. Killian was shaking his head at something David was saying, and Emma couldn't stop the smile when she saw the large grins on both their faces.

Until she saw them, she hadn't realised how much Neverland had dampened everyone's spirits. She hadn't seen a grin like that on David's lips since they left Storybrooke, and although not even Neverland seemed enough to stop Killian turning his usual soft smile her way, his grins hadn't been as easy to come by.

She couldn't look away, not even when she continued speaking to Neal. "Why do we need to wait for Regina?"

"Because we need magic."

"What? I thought this was the same way you left last time. You can't do magic."

"No, but the shadow can carry one fourteen -year-old boy. It's going to need a bit of help to lift a shipful of them. I was hoping Papa would be able to help but-"

"Rumplestiltskin's free?" Neal nodded. "Where is he?"

"He went below deck. I think he was embarrassed that he was defeated by a teenager, especially when he kept saying he was our only hope to stop Pan."

"Or that being the Dark One isn't enough to stop his father from trapping him in Pandora's Box. Although, he did say the box was meant to hold evil. I wouldn't be surprised if Rumplestiltskin opened it and it just sucked him right in."

She expected Neal to shake his head or roll his eyes or maybe even chuckle and agree, but he was frowning at her. "What do you mean? His _father?"_

"I don't know the full story, but before Regina managed to get Henry's heart back, Pan told us Rumplestiltskin was his son."

"I'm _related_ to that monster?"

"Honestly, with the way things have been lately, I'm not even surprised," she said, a bitter chuckle escaping her lips. "I'd probably find it more surprising if we left this place _without_ adding to Henry's family tree."

"Keep saying things like that and you'll drive me right back to New York." He grinned at her, his eyebrows rising slightly when she returned the smile. "Costs more to live there, but who cares about a few hundred dollars if it means no magic, right?"

"You're not going back to New York anyway?" Emma asked. "I know you were thinking about staying but I didn't know you'd made a decision."

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know what I'll do in Storybrooke, but it's not like there's anything waiting for me back in New York." He looked over his shoulder, at the closed door that led down to Henry. "I figure I'll give it a few months, see if there's a place for me there. And, you know, Henry isn't going to be okay for a while. I didn't lose my heart or anything, but I've been there, with the Lost Boys. The least I can do is stick around and make sure I'm there if he wants to talk. Unless you don't-"

"No, it's good. Great, even. I think Henry will like that."

They shared another smile until Emma heard the door start to creak open behind her. She stepped aside and Regina walked out onto the deck.

"We haven't left yet?" she asked. "I thought we were leaving as soon as we could. What's keeping us here?"

"We need your help," Neal told her. "Hook and I thought of a plan while you were both with Henry. Ems and I can use one of the swivel guns to launch the shadow at the mast but we need you to trap it there or else it'll just fly off and leave us here. Can you do that?"

Regina nodded, and after Neal had repeated the plan one more time, he and Emma left Regina and headed for the back of the ship. As Emma adjusted the angle of the cannon, Neal nodded over to Killian and the pirate rushed across the deck to take the wheel, calling to David that he needed to prepare to lift the anchor.

"You ready?"

Neal didn't wait for an answer. He held the closed coconut just above the cannon's muzzle, ready to release the shadow the moment the cannon fired. It didn't take long for Emma to prime the weapon, and once Killian had loudly counted down from three, Emma lit the fuse.

The moment it fired, Neal pulled the two halves of the coconut apart, the shadow falling into the cannon's blast. It spiralled through the air until it was caught by Regina's magic. Emma watched, wide-eyed, as Regina pushed it into the sail. It looked as though the shadow was being absorbed into the fabric, the entire sheet turning black.

Emma had doubted that the shadow would really be able to fly them out of Neverland, but the moment David dropped the anchor onto the deck, the Jolly Roger started to lift away from the ocean. The hull was pointing up into the sky, towards two stars in the distance. The moment the entire ship was airborne, Emma heard a loud whoop coming from the other side of the ship, from David.

He turned to look at her, both hands raised in a thumbs up, and when Emma rolled her eyes, he left Mary-Margaret's side and waded through the sea of Lost Boys towards her.

"We did it," he said loudly, as he bounded up the stairs to the Poop Deck two at a time. "Second star to the left and straight on to Storybrooke!"

"I don't really mind where we land so long as we're back in our realm and we have access to hot food and a shower," she replied, David's laugh drawing a smile to her lips. "I mean, second star to the left and straight on isn't exactly the most useful set of directions."

"Hook'll get us home." He finally reached her side and the two of them leant over the side of the ship, staring down at the inky black water as it moved further and further from them. "Look, Emma, I just want to say that… well, I honestly wasn't sure we'd be able to do this. Rumplestiltskin made Pan sound unbeatable. But we did it. _You_ did it." Emma shrugged his words aside. She didn't feel like she deserved them, not that David seemed to notice. "We're _all_ going home, and that's because of you."

Emma forced a smile, a nod, and then, after murmuring something about wanting to speak to Killian, she walked away.

It only took a few footsteps to reach him, and once she did, she ducked under his arm so she was standing between him and the wheel, his arms around her. She leant against him, her back to his chest, and she let out a soft sigh when she felt him brush a kiss to her hair.

"You seem rather less celebratory than I would have expected," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "You are aware that we're finally leaving Neverland, aren't you?"

"Don't tell me you're going to follow that question with a 'you did it', because if I hear those words one more time…"

She felt him shake his head. "I wasn't planning on it. Maybe once we're back in Storybrooke and I have a slice in front of me. Until then, I'm not going to declare any sort of victory over Pan until we're out of this hellish place." He paused, angled the wheel just slightly more to the left, and then continued. "However, I suspect that's not why you don't want to hear it."

"It's what David said," she admitted. "As though I'm the hero."

"You don't agree?"

"I didn't need to come. I mean, what did I even do?" Emma swallowed, unsure whether or not to voice what she'd been thinking since she'd watched Regina take back Henry's heart and save the day. For a moment, she didn't speak, not until Killian had gently taken her hand in his, placing their joined hands back on the spoke of the wheel. "It was Regina who saved Henry, not me. It was Rumplestiltskin who came up with the only plan we had to actually stop Pan. All I did was lead the people I care about into danger and look what happened to them. They nearly ended up trapped here for good."

She wouldn't have dared voice her doubts to anyone other than Killian. She knew it didn't really matter that she hadn't been the saviour Henry believed she was, not when all that mattered was that someone _did_ save Henry. Not that knowing that stopped her from feeling like all she'd really done was make things worse.

"Don't overexaggerate the Crocodile's part in all this," Killian told her. "All he managed to achieve was getting caught in his own trap."

"At least he had a trap."

"Perhaps it wasn't you who dealt the final blow, but we wouldn't have even made it to Neverland without you."

"Without _you_."

"Do you truly believe I would have ever considered returning to this place if it weren't for you?"

Emma shook her head in disbelief. His reassurances were sweet, but if that was all he could offer to try and convince her that she hadn't been a waste of space, it wasn't very good.

She stayed in his arms until the sky lightened, until he called for Neal to take his place at the wheel and then led Emma to the front of the ship. There were clouds moving underneath them, the sky was a clear blue, and when she felt the biting wind in her hair, it finally sank in that they'd escaped Neverland.

They were almost home.

Everything she'd been worrying over didn't bother her anymore, and she turned to beam at Killian. He was watching her, his gaze soft, and when she met his eyes, he smiled.

"Emma?" She hummed in response, his expression growing impossibly warmer as he reached for her, his palm on her cheek, thumb stroking her skin. "I've travelled back from Neverland many times. This is the first time I've had something really worth returning to."

"And what's that?"

"Granny's lasagne." She gaped at him for only a second, but then he quirked his eyebrow, his smile growing mischievous, and she had to laugh. "Seriously, love, as much as I enjoy that meal, you have to know what I really meant. Before, I was always chasing revenge. Until now, I've never really had a future to return to. You've spoken of weekends together, of waking up together. That's what I want. With you."

And even though his words weighed down on her, she didn't want to run away from them or shrug them off. Sure, he was asking for a future, but he wasn't asking for anything she hadn't already said she wanted.

She took a deep breath, her heart racing, and when she spotted the apprehension on his face, she couldn't look at him anymore, turning to gaze out into the sky, his hand dropping away from her cheek. "I can't really see myself taking time away from Henry any time soon," she admitted. "But when he's ready, when I'm ready, you know I want that too."

"Good."

They shared a comfortable silence for several long minutes, watching the clouds drift by below them. Emma wrapped her arms around herself, the wind cold on her arms.

Killian's jacket was below deck.

She only spoke again when she felt Killian move away. "Wait," she ordered, turning to grab at his wrist and stop him from returning to the wheel. "Before you go back, I just… I know I've thanked you before but I need to say it again now that we're going back."

"You don't need to say anything."

"I do." She tugged him back towards her, across the small distance he'd put between them. "I don't think I could have done this without you. And I _know_ you want to say I'm wrong and that I could have done it by myself, but let me finish. Thank-"

"I know you want me to let you finish, but I do feel like I should warn you that there are children watching."

She paused, eyebrows furrowed into a scowl. "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that, as fond as my memories are of the last time you wanted to express gratitude," he smirked, his eyes running over the length of her body as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, "it's not really appropriate for an audience. Especially one so-"

"Oh, shut up."

And then, one hand gripping his collar, the other the railing, she kissed him.

She didn't care who was watching.

 


	50. Chapter 50

** Chapter 50 **

The sky was still streaked with orange when the Jolly Roger landed at Storybrooke's docks, but despite the fact that the sun hadn't finished rising, they arrived to a crowd of people. Henry disembarked first, his steps hesitant and slow as he wandered down the gangplank, only to be engulfed in a hug from Granny and Ruby. Emma followed, Mary-Margaret and David on her heels, and the moment she stepped onto the concrete dock, she had to move aside.

It seemed like the whole group were rushing to greet her parents. The two of them were surrounded by all seven of the dwarves, Archie, Granny and Ruby. It was only Lacey and a few unfamiliar faces who hadn't joined the group hug.

Emma expected Henry to go join the big reunion, seeing as he hadn't had an opportunity to really greet his grandparents, but instead of pushing through the crowd to them, he stayed at the edge of the dock.

Maybe, after Neverland, he didn't want to be surrounded by so many people.

"How does it feel to finally be home?"

Henry looked up at her, his expression worryingly blank, and then a slow grin spread across his lips. "Better than I ever imagined."

His voice was cool, his gaze hard as he watched the townspeople celebrating in front of the ship's walkway. Emma felt strangely like she'd been dismissed, as though Henry couldn't care less if she was standing beside him.

She didn't know what to say. She had hardly figured how to be a mother before Pan had kidnapped Henry, and she was definitely not prepared to deal with the aftermath, as much as she wished she was, and she hated feeling so uncertain as to how to make him feel better. If anything would.

Her throat felt thick with all the things she didn't know how to say, and she pressed her lips tightly together so she wouldn't try to convince him to talk to her. He clearly didn't want to.

She'd never felt so uncomfortable around him.

"You're back."

Emma turned a relieved smile towards Lacey when she heard her voice, glad she was no longer standing in silence with her son. "Yeah," she said. "We weren't expecting this many people here to welcome us, though. How did you guys even know we were here?"

"Ariel and I were out here looking for someone. We saw the ship. I called Grumpy and then, well, you know how quickly news spreads once he gets involved." They shared a chuckle and then Lacey rose up onto her toes to peer over Emma's shoulder. "Is Killian okay? I haven't seen him yet. Did you leave him and _Rumple_ alone on the ship?"

"He's with Neal. They're doing whatever it is you have to when you dock a ship. I guess Rumplestiltskin's just lurking up there until Neal's ready to join us down here."

"Neal?"

"Henry's dad."

"Oh. I didn't know that he was…. Is he the man who was with you when you saved me from Cora?" Emma nodded, and the two of them fell into another silence. Lacey smiled at Henry, but he didn't return one. "Are you all okay? I don't know much about Neverland, but from what Rumple told me, it didn't sound good."

Emma frowned. "What do you mean, what Rumple told you?"

"He, uh, sent a message with Ariel. He told me that if I used the strength of our love, I'd be able to find something he needed." Lacey pressed her lips together, glancing down at the floor. Emma grimaced. She'd been there when Lacey told Rumplestiltskin they were done, and she was pretty certain that those instructions had been very unwelcome. And that Lacey didn't want to talk about it, even if she seemed to have actually gained Henry's attention. "At least his message meant I finally knew where you'd gone. Anyway… you are all okay, aren't you?"

She didn't answer straight away. She had to look over at David first, had to see that he was still smiling and greeting the dwarves. Killian had made it clear that his brother had died immediately after leaving Neverland, so at least it seemed the bringing the spring water with them had bought him some time. Not that Emma didn't want to say anything about David to anyone before she had a chance to break the news to Henry.

If she even had to tell him. If Rumplestiltskin or Dr Whale could find a way to save David, Henry wouldn't need to know.

"We're all fine."

Lacey nodded, although she looked distracted by something behind Emma. Emma turned to see Regina and Rumplestiltskin descending from the ship, shoving the crowd aside as they stepped out onto the docks. Regina seemed uncertain about where to go, standing awkwardly among the large crowd and Emma and Henry, but Rumplestiltskin headed straight for Lacey.

"Belle," he said simply. He had Pandora's Box in one hand, his cane in the other, and seemed determined not to acknowledge anyone other than his ex.

Lacey hesitated before crossing her arms over her chest, her knuckles white as she gripped at her sleeves. Despite her obvious discomfort, she smiled nervously back at Rumplestiltskin. "Rumple. I'm glad you're safe. And that I could help."

"I knew you'd be able to find what we needed. I knew that even after everything-"

"I haven't forgotten what we had." Lacey had cut his words off before he could say anything else referencing the love they had shared. Emma wasn't entirely sure she should be around for the conversation, but Lacey always seemed more confident talking to him when there was someone else around. "That doesn't mean we can have it again. I was glad to help. Let's just leave it at that."

It seemed like Rumplestiltskin couldn't do that, but Emma didn't keep listening. She was distracted by raucous cheers and hollers of the Lost Boys as Neal herded them off the ship, Killian following after them. The boys formed their own nosy group a few feet from the others, and then a high-pitched, excited shriek drew everyone's attention to Wendy. She sprinted away from the Lost Boys, talking so quickly it was incoherent as she ran at two men Emma didn't recognise.

They met her halfway across the docks, one of them catching her and picking her up as she hugged him. They shared a few words and then Neal was with them, the four of them hugging and clapping each other on the back.

They had to be Wendy's brothers, the ones Neal had lived with a century previously, but Emma was too sick of magic and Neverland and anything to do with Peter Pan to want an explanation of how that reunion was even possible.

Well, maybe not _everything_ to do with Peter Pan. She leant into Killian's side when she felt his arm settle across her shoulders, finally turning her attention back to Henry and the rest of the small group.

His appearance at her side seemed to shut Rumplestiltskin up. He was too busy glaring at Killian to keep bugging Lacey, and from the wide, relieved grin on her face, Emma was certain that Lacey was just happy as her that Killian had finally joined them.

"Here," Killian said, holding a small, black bottle towards Rumplestiltskin.

"What's that?"

"Dreamshade." Rumplestiltskin grimaced at the answer, shoved Pandora's Box into his pocket and then reached out to snatch the poison from Killian. "Bae said you would need it to find the antidote."

"I'll start working on it as soon as I've returned to my shop."

"Don't use it all," Killian warned. "If you can't find an antidote, perhaps Whale can. He'll need the Dreamshade too."

"If I can't find an antidote, Victor won't stand a chance," Rumplestiltskin snarled. "Whatever he claims about science, it can't compare to my magic. I'll use what I need."

"You'll use half."

The Dark One's lips curled, his grip on the bottle tightening, and when Lacey didn't say anything, he turned on his heel and limped away.

Emma felt Killian take a deep breath before he brushed a kiss to her hair and turned to grin at Lacey. "Would it surprise you to know I rather enjoyed that show of hostility? After the last few weeks, his hatred was all I needed to feel like everything's back to normal."

"Or whatever counts for normal in Storybrooke anyway," Emma muttered bitterly.

Killian chuckled, kissed her hair again, and then released her so that he could step forward and hug Lacey.

"Welcome back," Lacey said quietly, her words muffled by Killian. "I was worried about you. All of you."

"You should just be grateful you weren't there." He ended the hug, moving immediately back to Emma and wrapping his arm around her again. Emma slipped her own arm around his waist. "We're all fine. Besides, I'm certain Storybrooke was much quieter without all of us around."

"I suppose it was," she admitted. "Grumpy and the other dwarves took turns as stand-in Sheriff though so it probably could have been quieter."

"It looks as though the calm's been good for you. You're glowing."

"I'm sweating."

Killian laughed, shaking his head at her deadpan tone. "Well, whatever it is, you look good. How about tomorrow, we get lunch and you can tell us all about the misadventures of the dwarves and their attempts at law enforcement. I'll pay."

Lacey nodded. "If you're free. You know I'll understand if you want to save that lunch until you're all settled in again. Henry might not want to spend his lunchtime listening to town gossip."

Emma had assumed the lunch was just for the two of them, but, apparently, Lacey had thought otherwise. As strange as it should have been for her and Henry to be automatically included in Killian's plans, she was glad they had been.

"I'll ask Henry," she told her. "But we'll definitely find the time. If not lunch, then I'm sure we can get coffee and cocoa one afternoon this week while Henry's with Neal or Regina."

"When what's happening with me?" Emma glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Neal's voice. He was standing near them, his shoulders hunched and his hands buried in his pockets. Considering they were finally back in Storybrooke, he looked less happy than she would have expected. "Mind if I join in?"

"No," she answered, shifting even closer to Killian to make space for Neal beside them. "I thought you'd still be catching up with the Darlings."

"Yeah, well, I think they just want to get the hell out of here and start attempting a normal life as soon as they can. Wendy's got a lot to get used to. They all do." Emma guessed he wasn't just talking about the Darlings. "I got their cell numbers though. I figure we can get a beer or two sometime. If they ever come back around here."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. There's been a lot of surprises the last couple of weeks, but I'm glad seeing them again was one of them." It was only then that he seemed to remember that he'd interrupted a conversation, and he grimaced apologetically. "Hey, sorry about taking over the conversation. I'm Neal."

He held his hand out towards Lacey, and after she shared a surprised look with Emma, she took it. "Belle."

"Yeah, I remember." Lacey frowned at him. "Oh, I was with Emma and my Papa when you were kidnapped. You make a good first impression. Don't worry if you don't remember me. You were probably a bit distracted."

"Rumplestiltskin's your... You're Baelfire?"

"I prefer Neal."

"Neal, then. It's good to meet you."

"You too."

They smiled at each other until they were interrupted by the arrival of Mary-Margaret and David, who seemed to have finally broken free from the crowd. It was only then that their handshake ended, as Lacey looked away from Neal and started bestowing warm greetings to the others.

Emma took advantage of the sudden burst of activity by moving away from Killian's side and back to Henry, who was still distancing himself from the others. "Hey, are you sure you're alright?" she asked. "Just say the word and we can get out of here. We can go back to the loft and I'll run you a bath and attempt a grilled cheese sandwich."

"I'm fine."

Emma bit her lip, unconvinced, but nodded anyway. She looked away from him only when she felt someone tap her shoulder, and she turned to see Archie standing behind her, a concerned frown on his face.

"Welcome back, Miss Swan," he said. "I thought I'd come and say hello to Henry. Just in case he wants to talk."

"Yeah, yeah, that might be good," she replied quietly, smiling gratefully at him and stepping aside to let him reach Henry.

She watched as he knelt down and started to speak softly to her son, Henry responding to each question with only a couple of words. Neal had definitely been right about Henry not being okay, and although they would all be there if Henry needed anything, perhaps she could ask Archie to spend a few hours with him too.

Henry had told Archie a lot before the curse broke, and if there was anything he struggled to talk about, he might feel more comfortable opening up to Archie.

She'd ask him later, once they had Henry settled back at the loft.

"As great as this reunion is," Emma said as she rejoined the others, "What's the plan now we're back?"

"Lunch," Granny told her. "Ruby and I will make a feast and once you've showered and changed, you can all come to the diner and we'll celebrate your return."

"Sounds great, but there are a few more things we need to sort out." Emma pointed over at the Lost Boys. "What do we do about them? And what do we do about the shadow?"

"We don't need to worry about the shadow," Neal said. "Papa said it's trapped. Just like it was in the candle. It's only Pan who can free it and he's trapped in a box."

"And the Lost Boys?"

For a while, no one seemed to have an answer, and then Leroy cleared his throat. "I guess I could take them to the fairies. I'm meeting Nova at the convent for some brunch and they could tag along. Only to the convent, though. I'm not sharing any of my brunch with them."

David's eyes were wide. "Brunch? You're having brunch?"

Leroy grumbled something incoherent, his nose bright red, and then fixed David with a glare. "Should I take them to the nuns or not?"

"It's the best plan we have for now," Emma admitted. "They can probably stay there until we figure out what to do with them."

"And Felix?" Killian prompted. "Unlike the others, he's been rather vocal about his loyalties to Pan. Do we want him roaming free in Storybrooke?"

"We've got plenty of cell space," David said. "We'll put him there. Get someone to keep an eye on him."

He walked over towards the Lost Boys, ruffling Henry's hair as he passed him and Archie on their way to join them.

"Hey, kid," Emma called. "Ready for a change of clothes? We're going to start making our way back to the loft in a minute."

"I want to stay with Mom."

Emma hadn't expected that, and she couldn't hide the hurt on her face. She raised her gaze towards Regina, grimacing at the smugness on the other woman's face. "Are you sure? A lot of your stuff's still in the loft."

"He has more than enough things in his room," Regina insisted. "If he wants to stay with me, he can stay with me."

Emma took a deep breath, forcing herself to think rationally. Of course Henry would rather return to a large house where he had a room of his own and a choice of bathrooms. At the loft, he wouldn't have any space for himself and they'd be queuing for their turn in the bath.

She understood. She did.

It just seemed very different from the boy who had told her he wasn't ready to be alone with Regina yet.

"Okay. If that's what you want, then okay." She could feel her parents looking at her, but she refused to turn around. Not when she was already struggling to hide how disappointed and confused she was. "You do that, and then we'll see you at Granny's and sort out where you're going to stay tonight. I'll bring your storybook. Regina, you'll be there too?"

"I didn't realise I was invited."

"You helped. You're invited."

Regina seemed surprised, and then she actually smiled at Emma. Emma couldn't smile back, could only watch as Regina placed her hand on Henry's shoulder and steered him away from them.

"I'm sorry, Emma," Mary-Margaret said gently, and Emma turned back around to look at her and Killian. "I'm sure he only wants to go there because there's more space. Nothing to do with you."

"Yeah."

"Shall we go back to the loft then? Everyone else has started to leave."

Emma looked past her mother to see the group dispersing as they all left the docks. Leroy and the other dwarves with directing the Lost Boys towards the convent. Neal and Belle were still talking, accompanying Ruby, Granny and Tinkerbelle back to the diner. David was gripping Felix's shoulder as he took him to the station.

It was only her, Mary-Margaret and Killian left.

"I might stay here," she said hesitantly, grimacing when Mary-Margaret's face fell. "I'm sure you and David could use some space as well, once he's back from the station."

Mary-Margaret swallowed, her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked between Emma and Killian. "Alright," she agreed quietly. "But I will see you at Granny's, won't I? Granny said everything will be ready for half past twelve."

Emma nodded, and after allowing Mary-Margaret to pull her into a hug, only her and Killian were left.

~~~*~~~

It had taken longer than Emma had expected for Killian to finish docking the Jolly Roger. She'd assumed that once it was secured to the dock, they'd be done, but instead, she'd helped him carry his few electronics back from the storage room and watched as he laid out several extension cables. He tucked the wires as near to the railing as he could, each cable following a path that only Killian knew.

As much as she wanted a shower, Emma was certain that as soon as they retreated to the bathroom and finally changed out of their old clothes, they wouldn't want to be sorting out the Jolly Roger.

But when Killian returned from below deck with a bucket and mop, Emma realised that if she didn't _something,_ she could be waiting a very long time. And maybe she was disappointed Henry had chosen to go home with Regina instead of her, but she wasn't going to ignore an opportunity to be alone with Killian.

"Hey," she said loudly, grinning down at him from the poop deck when he paused his mopping and looked up at her. "I was fine waiting for you to wire up everything and finish tying all the ropes, but do we really need to wait until you've swabbed the deck? I've been in these clothes for a _week_."

Killian raised an eyebrow. "You know you didn't have to wait for me."

"I wanted to. You were putting on a good show," she teased, grinning widely when he shook his head in bemusement. "But we've been back for almost an hour and I still haven't showered. So, unless you're planning on mopping the deck shirtless - and in that case, I can wait a few more minutes - can you maybe leave the rest of the tidying for later? I'm sure we can find a way for you to rub something out even you don't clean the deck today."

He smirked and met her gaze, their eyes locked as he pointedly rested the mop against the mast. "I suppose I could take a break. Or would you rather I hire one of the Lost Boys as a Swabbie and devote all my time to you?"

"Sounds tempting."

Killian nodded, his smirk softening into a warm, enticing smile. "That it does."

"But they might get in the way when we want some alone time."

"So we should make the most of the time we _do_ have."

It took him less than a minute to duck below deck and return with a couple of towels. He waited for her at the base of the stairs, offering her his arm when she reached him, and then the two of them walked the short distance to the showers.

He'd showed her where the showers the day of the storm, months earlier, but she'd never used them. She'd never stayed on the ship long enough to justify using them when she had another, less public, bathroom back in the loft.

She had asked him once, when they were lying beside one another on his tiny bed, breath heavy and bodies damp with sweat, why he had never installed a shower of his own onto the Jolly Roger. He'd stared up at the cabin's ceiling, eyes half-closed, and told her he couldn't bring himself to install any permanent modern amenities onto the ship, couldn't bear to change the ship he'd spent several lifetimes on. That as used to Storybrooke as he was, the Jolly Roger was his home and he didn't want to change that to try and fit in with a realm he didn't belong to.

He'd shifted even closer in the narrow bed, raising himself onto his elbow so he could gaze down at her, and murmured that he'd be easily persuaded to make a few adjustments if she was planning on staying over more. Emma had shaken her head, breathless from the kisses he was trailing across her shoulder, tried to protest that he couldn't do that for her, not to his home.

Killian had caught her lips with his, brushed his thumb against her cheek, and murmured 'That was before you."

And despite wanting to know more, for him to spell out exactly what he meant, she had been very easily distracted.

The public showers weren't as bad as Emma had expected. The light didn't really work, only bright enough to slightly illuminate the room, but other than that, it was well-maintained and clean.

"So these are for anyone who wants to use them?" she asked.

"Supposedly, they're for anyone docked in Storybrooke. I've never seen anyone else here." He pushed open the door of the nearest cubicle, gesturing for her to enter. "That shower has better water pressure. I'll use the other one."

She took one step into the cubicle and then stopped, turning round to look at him. "You've _never_ seen anyone else in here?"

Killian shook his head and Emma allowed a mischievous smirk to cross her lips as she reached towards him, her fingers curling in the collar of his shirt. "Love?"

"You did say we should make the most of our time together,' she said innocently, pulling him with her as she stepped back into the cubicle. When they were both squeezed into the small, dry space, she reached past him to close the cubicle door behind them, flicking the lock closed. "That's all I'm doing."

His eyes were on her as she slowly took off her shirt, dropping it carelessly beside her. His gaze followed the fabric as it fell. Emma waited until he was looking back up at her before she took off her leggings, standing in front of him in only her underwear.

The light was dim but she could make out how he was looking at her - mesmerised, wanting. She loved it, loved _him,_ and she closed the space between them as she wrapped her arms around his neck and stretched up to brush her lips over his. He didn't react until she pulled away, his lips chasing hers but failing to catch them because she'd turned her back to him.

Emma glanced back over her shoulder, biting her lip when she caught him glancing over her body, and then she stripped off the little she was wearing, her underwear joining the rest of her clothes on the floor. "Are you coming?"

She didn't wait for a response. She stepped into the shower and started the water, a grateful sigh escaping her lips when she felt the warm water on her body. It was washing all of Neverland away, all the sweat and dirt that had accrued on her over the week finally gone.

Emma wished the whole thing was just easy to get rid of, but she was sure the memories would linger for far longer than anyone wanted.

At least Killian's touch was a good distraction. He'd finally joined her in the shower, the sound of his hook clattering on the tiled floor signalling his approach, and was busying himself with gently tracing lines on her shoulder, along the slightly tender marks left from their tryst in Neverland's jungle. "You're a siren," he murmured, punctuating the words with a soft kiss to the curve of her shoulder. "I've never seen anything as tempting as you."

She let out a laugh, stopping abruptly when he brushed her wet hair aside and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. His fingers were tangled in her hair, his other arm wrapped around her waist and holding her against him. She sighed, her eyes closing as her head fell back to rest against him.

It was wonderful to not have to rush things, to be able to lean against him and just bask in the feel of him and his kisses without worrying about running out of time or being interrupted. It had been too long since they'd been alone for more than a few hurried, stolen moments and, yes, they had a party to get to eventually, but they still had more time than they'd had in weeks.

Emma wished that didn't make her uneasy, but it did. Not because of Killian, but because she had realised before that things weren't that simple in Storybrooke. The moment things seemed to settle down, the moment she actually had some time for herself, that was when everything would go to hell. Again.

Killian must have felt her tense because his arm tightened around her and he murmured something vaguely soothing before kissing just the right place behind her ear and making her lose focus on anything but him.

But despite how good it would feel to lose herself in him, she had to admit that, in that moment, she just wanted a shower. She told him as much, and after one more lingering kiss to the same place, eliciting another quiet gasp, he chuckled and released her.

For several minutes, it was almost like any other shower, except Killian was there and they were manoeuvring around each other, taking turns under the spray and passing the shower gel to one another. The moment she felt clean, she finally let herself be distracted, her eyes lingering on the drops of water running over Killian's torso, on the way his hair was plastered to his forehead.

It had already been too long since he stopped kissing her. Emma closed the space between them, looping her arms around his neck and raising her lips to his. He responded instantly, mouth moving over hers. She whimpered when his tongue touched hers, and then he was backing her into the wall, out of the water. She almost shivered, but the warm water was still streaming over him, keeping them both warm as he kissed her. His fingers were everywhere; brushing through her hair, tracing patterns on her breasts, inside her.

His name was on her lips when she came, one hand gripping at his hair, the other clutching at his shoulder. She wondered vaguely if they could get away with having sex in the shower, but the floor was slippery and there was nothing that looked solid enough for her to hold onto.

"As sheriff," she said breathlessly, voice hitching when Killian leant down, his mouth on her breast. "It's maybe not a good idea for me to do something that might damage public property."

He lifted his head, one eyebrow raised. "As I said, it's hardly public."

Killian captured her mouth with his immediately after he spoke, Emma sighing into it. She couldn't get enough of him; the weight of him, the way he kissed her like he never wanted to do anything else, the way he felt beneath her hands as she slid them down his chest.

"Not here," she breathed, her hands pausing just above his waist. "Although I suppose I could help you… swab your deck."

He chuckled, but then her hand was on him and he couldn't laugh anymore.

They stayed in the shower until the water got too cold and, after more reassurance from Killian that it was unlikely they'd run into anyone, they'd hurried back across the docks in their towels.

Back in his cabin, Killian dressed immediately. Emma watched as he organised the cabin, moving the small television to what she assumed was its rightful place. As he did that, she went straight for her phone, which had been abandoned on the windowsill on the way to Neverland.

Time didn't pass in Neverland, but not even that had stopped her phone from running out of charge.

"Do you want to call Henry?" Killian asked, busy stripping the sheets from the bed.

"I'm thinking about it," she said. She couldn't decide if it were a good idea. It hadn't been too long since they returned, no matter how much time they'd wasted in the shower, and she wouldn't be surprised if Henry was still in the bubble bath she assumed Regina would have drawn up for him. Or taking a much-needed nap. "My phone's dead though and I doubt you have anything here I can use to charge it."

"If you really want to contact him, you're more than welcome to use mine." He bundled the sheets into a ball and tucked them under his arm. "Do you want your clothes washed?"

"What?"

"Laundry."

"No, it's fine. I'll probably just throw them out." She never wanted to wear those clothes again. "Or burn them."

Killian nodded, and after he'd taken her towel, suggesting she help herself to his wardrobe, he'd left the ship with a promise to return in a few minutes. Emma chose a shirt, not paying attention what she was picking, but once she had it buttoned up, she didn't bother to dress any further.

She'd have to put her leggings on eventually, as she probably couldn't wander the streets of Storybrooke in only Killian's shirt, but she didn't want to be wearing them any longer than necessary. They'd just have to make sure they left for the party with enough time for her to stop at the loft and change.

Emma leant back against the desk, going through Killian's short list of contacts until she found Regina's number. As much as she wanted to speak with her son, she couldn't decide what to do. If she _did_ call, she was certain that any conversation with her son would come after Regina had reminded her that Henry had chosen to stay with her and that she was more than capable of looking after him.

As strange as it seemed to her, he _had_ chosen Regina. She would see him soon, at Granny's. If anything was really wrong, Regina would probably call.

She called David instead, preferring to distract herself with work than letting herself dwell on Henry's apparent change of heart. It rang for almost a minute before Mary-Margaret picked up.

"Hook?" she asked, before Emma could say anything. "Is Emma alright?"

"This _is_ Emma. You do realise that Killian doesn't just have David's number in case of emergencies, right?"

Mary-Margaret ignored her comment. "Why are you using Hook's phone?"

"Because my phone didn't survive a week without a charger and I don't exactly keep a spare on Killian's ship," Emma said. "Why are you using David's?"

"He only just got back from the Sheriff station and he's in the shower," she explained. "That isn't why you're calling, is it? For work? You know the town doesn't expect you to get straight back to work."

"I just wanted to make sure everything went okay with Felix. I know you don't want me working, and honestly, I don't want to be working either, but you'd tell me if he beat up David and made a run for it, wouldn't you?"

"David sorted everything. Felix is in a cell at the station and the dwarves are going to take turns watching him so that you don't have to work today. Sleepy's there now."

" _Sleepy_?"

There were several seconds of silence. "You have security cameras. And the cell locks." Emma laughed. "Emma, while we're talking… are you staying with Killian tonight?"

She hadn't expected that question. "Oh, I don't know," she said slowly. "I don't think so."

"Good. I was hoping you'd come home tonight. It's the first time in weeks where we don't have to worry about anything-"

"Except Sleepy being on guard duty."

"There hasn't been any time for us to spend together, as a family, since the curse broke. I thought that, after everything at Granny's, I could get some snacks, Henry could pick a movie and we can enjoy the lack of chaos?"

"That sounds nice."

There was another pause in the conversation before Mary-Margaret spoke again. "Hook is more than welcome to join us if you want him to come."

"I'll ask him."

"Okay. Let me know what he says because David will probably get some beers and he'll want to get enough for everyone."

"You should just get enough for four and if Killian has other things to do-" Emma heard the door close behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Killian had returned. "I'm sure we can manage to drink it all. Anyway, I have to go, but I'll see you at Granny's?"

Mary-Margaret said goodbye and Emma hung up, handing Killian his phone when he rounded the table to stand before her.

"Was that Henry?" he asked, his phone bouncing on his mattress after he threw it behind him. "How is he?"

"Not Henry," she told him. "He's probably still enjoying his own space. And I have to learn to trust Regina with him if that's what he wants. I can't call after an hour to check everything's okay."

"It would be understandable after everything."

"Probably not to Regina. Don't worry, it's not a big deal. I'll see him at Granny's soon."

Killian stared at her for a moment, and she forced a smile across her face. Not that it convinced him she was fine.

"How long until we have to be at Granny's?"

"An hour, maybe?" Emma said, unsure what the exact time was. "But we need to leave a bit earlier so I can pick up some new clothes. I don't think Granny will let me in like this."

"Which is a shame, because you look stunning." Emma rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the smile. "Sweetheart, I'm sure Henry's fine. He's probably having a nap or watching the television or simply enjoying being out of the hell that was Neverland."

"Which is what we were meant to be doing." She lifted herself onto the table, perching on the edge, and then reached out for him, hooking her fingers into his belt and tugging him close so that he was standing between her legs. "Sorry."

Emma raised her head and kissed him. He responded instantly, his hand grazing her bare thigh before settling on her hip, under her shirt. The smell of him surrounded her, the mint of his shower gel unable to mask the lingering smell of the sea that he always had. Her hands were in the back pockets of his jeans, holding his hips to hers, and when she needed to feel more, when she rocked against him, he groaned and kissed her harder.

"Oh, Killian, we're going to the loft later, " she said breathlessly, between kisses to his jaw, when she realised she probably tell him the plans before she got too distracted. He murmured something quiet and unintelligible in response, and Emma wasn't entirely sure he'd understood what she'd said. "For movies and popcorn."

He drew his head back, just out of reach, and gazed down at her, eyebrows furrowed. "When was this decided?"

"Just now. On the phone." Emma slid one hand into his hair, angling his head back towards her. "You don't have to come if you don't want to but David _is_ bringing beer. And I'd like it if you did."

"Well, if David's bringing beer," he paused, his eyes closing and his breath catching when Emma resumed the trail of kisses, his jaw first and then up, biting gently on his earlobe. "How can I say no?"

"What about me?"

She felt him shiver as she whispered to him, and then he was kissing her. She couldn't sit straight up, not when he was leaning over her, and she had to clutch at him to keep her balance. He anchored her, one arm wrapped around her waist, his hand finally rising from its place on her hip to cup her breast. She sighed at the touch, trying to press impossibly closer, the hand not holding onto him clumsily attempting to undo his shirt.

"I'm sure I can find a way to cope with your presence." He breathed the words when their lips parted, but Emma was barely able to process them. She didn't care what he'd said, hardly remembered what they'd been talking about, so she just kissed the smirk off his face.

She murmured something incoherent in protest when he broke the kiss, but then his lips were pressed against her neck, her collarbone, and her vague protests were replaced by an appreciative moan. He was tracing a path across her exposed skin, moving lower and lower, and when he reached the collar of her shirt, he didn't push it aside but bypassed it completely. He sunk to his knees, his hand and hook holding her in place as he brushed gentle, teasing kisses to her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him but refusing to give her what she so desperately needed.

All she could focus on was the brush of his stubble against her skin, her hand in his hair. She was too hot, her body too tight. She started to tremble, her grip on his hair tightening. She felt his smirk against her skin and then his mouth was finally upon her and she couldn't do anything but whimper his name and fall apart, her head falling back and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her again, deep and messy and everything.

"How long now until we need to leave?" he asked, still so close that his lips brushed hers with each word.

"Doesn't matter," she told him. "Just don't stop."

~~~*~~~

They were the last to arrive at Granny's. They'd left the Jolly Roger later than they should have, after they'd both taken separate, very quick, second showers, and then they'd been even further delayed when instead of just changing into a pair of fresh trousers at the loft, Emma had also thrown together a small bag of clothes to keep on the ship.

Killian had kissed her when she came down the stairs from her room, still wearing his shirt, and explained what the bag was for, although she'd refused to let them get distracted. Instead, she'd ended the kiss almost as soon as it had started and the two of them had hurried to her Bug and sped to Granny's.

"You know they said the food would be ready by half past, right?" Emma paused in the doorway when she heard Neal's voice. He was sitting at the table nearest the entrance, one eyebrow raised, a beer in front of him. "Not on the hour."

"And we would have been on time if I hadn't had to stop back at the loft," Emma told him, stepping aside so Killian could join everyone else in the diner. "I had to pick up a few things."

"Not a shirt though?"

Emma rolled her eyes. It had nothing to do with Neal if she'd chosen to keep wearing Killian's shirt instead of changing into something else, and if he _was_ going to comment on it, she was just going to ignore it.

Her thoughts must have been clear on her face because Neal held up his hands in surrender and looked apologetically at her and Killian. "Hey, look, I was just teasing. It doesn't matter whose shirt it is. You still look good in it."

"What do you want, Neal? Am I going to need a beer of my own for this conversation?"

"No." He nodded his head at the empty chair opposite him. "Don't worry, Ems. I'll let you join the party in a second. I just have something to give you."

Killian sat down first, less hesitant than Emma to join Neal, and then she followed suit. "So what've you got?"

He picked something up from the seat beside him and then he was pushing Henry's book across the table to her. "Here. I thought you'd want to give it back to Henry."

"Why do you have Henry's book?"

"He let me borrow it," he explained, his eyes locked on Emma's hand as she traced the golden embossing on the front. "I thought I could use it to help explain everything to Tamara. Henry said that was fine as long as I gave it back. It seems like a good time to do that."

She was silent for a while, flipping through the pages of the storybook and glancing at all the familiar illustrations. The pages telling the story of Snow White, featuring Prince Charles and Princess Leia, were slightly worn, Henry having read them over and over again.

Emma looked back up at Neal. "So why are you giving it to me?"

"Come on, Emma," he said. "I knew him for a few days before Pan took him. Sure, I could give him the book back, but after that, what would I do? Buy him an ice cream with all the toppings and hope it's enough? I just think it would be better if he got the book back from you."

Emma wasn't sure she agreed. The Henry she knew would love the chance to go through the storybook with someone who hadn't already read it cover to cover. However, she wasn't going to tell Neal that.

"Thanks. I'll just..." She peered past Neal, through the crowded diner, and tried to spot Henry. He was sat by himself in one of the booths, an unfamiliar expression of boredom on his face.

She didn't bother to finish her sentence. She just brushed a kiss to Killian's cheek and left the two men, storybook under her arm. As she walked away, she heard Killian offer to buy the next round of drinks, and a quick glance over her shoulder let her see he was already heading towards the counter.

"Hey, kid," she said once she reached Henry, sliding into the seat opposite him. "Where's Regina?"

"Arguing with Granny about lasagne," he replied before fixing her with an expectant look. "What do you want?"

Emma frowned. He definitely seemed different. His answers were shorter, his gaze nowhere near as warm and bright as it always used to be. She clenched her fist under the table, hating what Neverland and Pan had done to him, and then she forced herself to relax and reached across to lay her hand gently on his arm.

"Henry, you know you don't have to be here if you don't want to be." He didn't say anything. "Just say the word and I'll get some Granny's to go and we can go wherever you want. Just us. How about our spot? I know we've not really been there since the park was pulled down, but it'll be quiet. And if you need to talk, you can. You know that, right?"

His eyes narrowed. "I know. I'm fine."

"Okay, well," she said uncertainly. "Don't get too excited, but I have something for you." She'd have appreciated _some_ excitement, but Henry barely reacted. Not even when she pushed the book across the table to him. "Neal still had it in his room. We thought you'd want it."

"Right. Thanks."

He flipped the book open, the cover thumping on the table, and started to turn the pages, barely sparing a second on each page. He skipped right past the image of Leia and Charles in the ballroom, past the picture of Prince Charming, and his bleeding chin, leaning out of the window and shouting after Snow White. His expression didn't even change.

She didn't want to press the issue, not if he didn't want to talk, but she didn't want him trying to act like everything was fine. She just wanted him to be honest with her. "You okay?"

He looked up from the book, his face blank. "Yeah," he told her. "Why?"

She shrugged, resigning herself to the fact that he probably needed more time before he felt able to open up again.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, surrounded by the noisiness of the rest of the diner. Henry started to look through the storybook again, spending more time reading each page. Emma had a feeling he was doing it to reassure her, not because he actually wanted to.

She wanted him to do whatever _he_ needed, so instead of sitting and watching him read, she kissed his forehead and left him alone in the booth.

Emma headed straight for the counter. She needed a drink, although it was too early for anything stronger than a pint of beer. Not to mention the fact that she was so exhausted that one shot of rum or whiskey would probably send her straight to sleep.

"How is he?" Emma hadn't noticed Neal sat at the counter, too focused on getting her own drink. He had a full pint of beer and a bottle of rose lemonade on a tray in front of him. "Did the book work?"

Emma sighed. "He _says_ he's fine. I think he's tired and stressed and probably doesn't really know how to deal with what happened. The book didn't even get a smile."

"Maybe things will be better once everyone's had a full night's sleep."

"You can tell you're new to Storybrooke," Emma muttered bitterly. "Sleeping through the whole night? Doesn't really happen here. We'll probably all get woken up in the middle of the night by Frankenstein's third attempt at a monster."

Neal chuckled. "So maybe I shouldn't have ordered a Cappuccino."

"The caffeine will be helpful when you're running for your life at two in the morning."

Emma took her beer from Ruby and then spun round on the bar stool to watch the others in the diner. Mary-Margaret and David were talking with Marco and Pinocchio, and that sight was enough to Emma reconsider her decision to avoid any of the stronger alcohol.

"Emma?" She angled her chair back towards Neal but didn't glance back at him. She was looking at Regina and Archie, the two of them exchanging whispered conversation and regularly staring over at Henry. "I spoke to Rumplestiltskin before coming here. He said it looked like he'd have an antidote ready by tomorrow morning."

"By tomorrow?" Emma had expected it to take longer, but Neal's words had felt like a weight lifting off her. It was a relief to hear that she wouldn't need to worry about David running out of spring water before he could be saved. "That's great."

"Yeah. He said he'll work on it overnight and then I can bring it to yours in the morning," he said. "Although, that was only if I promised to have dinner with him whenever he took a break from potion-making. I agreed, in case you're wondering."

"Thanks." Emma hesitated for a second and then reached out to rest her hand on his arm. "He wouldn't be helping if it weren't for you. Sorry you have to pay the price for it."

"There are worse prices. At least he didn't ask me to track down the ex who got me sent to jail, right?"

Emma wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. What Neal did to her wasn't something she could make light of, but it _was_ something that had been hurting less lately. His apology had helped with that.

She didn't laugh, forced a smile and removed her hand from his arm. "Yeah. There's not much that's worth a price that high."

"And speaking of exes-"

That was when Emma laughed, unable to believe he'd used his ill-thought-out joke as a way to change the subject. He looked sheepish, exhaling in relief when Ruby finally appeared with his coffee, and it was only after he'd blown on it and taken a large gulp that he turned back to Emma.

"I wanted to ask you for a favour," he continued. "I want to see Tamara and I was sort of hoping you'd come with me. I just… I need to try and understand what she was thinking. Why she did what she did."

"And you want _me_ there?" Emma asked. "Isn't one ex enough for a conversation?"

"I wouldn't have asked if she hadn't shot me the last time we were in the same place. Besides, you're the sheriff."

"That's true." She looked back over at her shoulder, at Pinocchio. "I have a few of my own questions for her anyway. How about going there once this party's done?"

"Today?"

"You have to do things quickly here. We're just lucky we've managed to deal with each villain before the next one showed up."

"Just let me know when you want to go," Neal said. "Now, I should get these drinks back to Hook and Belle. They probably wanted to be drinking them five minutes ago. You going to join us?"

"In a moment. I have to tell David he isn't dying anytime soon." Neal picked up the tray of drinks and started back towards Killian and Belle, but Emma stopped him. "Can you ask Regina where Tamara is? I haven't had the chance."

"You don't know where she is?"

"I had other things on my mind. Just ask her, okay?"

Neal grumbled something in protest and walked away. Emma kept an eye on him as she crossed the room to join her parents, and although he seemed reluctant to speak with Regina, he headed straight for her as soon as he'd given Killian and Lacey their drinks.

Emma spent almost an hour with David and Mary-Margaret. After they'd shared a drink celebrating David's health, Emma had joined them as they made their way around the room, stopping and sharing small talk with all the guests. Not that Emma ever had much of an idea what to say. She just nodded and smiled and let Mary-Margaret and David act like the royals they were.

At least Granny's never-ending supply of mini sandwiches were a good explanation for why she wasn't really taking part in the conversations.

She left Mary-Margaret and David when she'd had enough of smiling and nodding, rejoining Killian, Neal and Lacey at the table by the window. They were mid-conversation, something about the best places to photograph in Storybrooke, so Emma didn't interrupt. She sat beside Killian, his arm already resting along the back of the seat as though he was waiting for her, and half-listened.

Most of her attention was on Henry. She could see him over Neal's shoulder, in the same place he'd been when she left his side an hour before. The storybook was open in front of him, but from Emma's angle, she couldn't get a good view of what page he was on. She just knew it wasn't the ballroom picture - the page wasn't red enough.

He didn't seem happy. He didn't seem like himself. Yes, he had always been quiet whenever he got upset, but never so cold and distant.

They shouldn't have had a party. He didn't need to be here, waiting in one of the diner booth's as his family ate sandwiches and chatted with family. They should have waited for Henry to feel better instead of assuming everything would be okay.

"Maybe I should take Henry home," she said quietly, interrupting the others. "Maybe a party was too much."

Neal turned in his seat, staring over at his son. "He might just be hungry."

Emma shook her head, doubting Neal's words as much as he did. Still, she appreciated the reassurance, even if it didn't mean much when Neal had already reminded several times since leaving Neverland that Henry wouldn't recover straight away. "We're sitting in a diner where there are waiters serving what appears a constant supply of sandwiches. If he were hungry, I'm sure he'd be eating them."

Neal grimaced, finally turning back to face Emma again. It didn't look like Henry had even noticed his father's attention, and if he had, he hadn't acknowledged it. "I'll take him back to the loft," she decided. "It won't fix things, but maybe some tv and a few pop tarts will cheer him up."

"And Tamara?"

Emma grimaced. Tamara had slipped her mind, too busy focusing on Henry. She shrugged slightly, not sure what to say. If she didn't have her own questions for Tamara, she'd just ask David to accompany Neal, and as much as she wished she could simply say that they could postpone the meeting, there never seemed to be time for delays. Not in Storybrooke.

If Henry wanted her around, she'd risk it. She'd be able to find the time to question the other woman, even if that only meant a brief conversation during a break from whatever villain appeared in Storybrooke next.

But it didn't seem like Henry wanted anyone around, and as much as she wanted to think otherwise, maybe he just wanted to be alone.

"We can go after this," she said quietly. "I'll talk to Henry first, but if he's okay with it, then we'll go like planned."

"Emma, if you want to be with Henry, I get it."

"If he just wants some space, it doesn't really matter who takes him back to the loft, does it?" she pointed out, suddenly exhausted. She paused, letting her head fall against Killian's shoulder, his hand rubbing her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "I'm sure David or Mary-Margaret will-"

"Let them enjoy their party, love." She glanced up at him, a slight frown creasing her eyebrows. "After all, it's their return the town is truly celebrating. I can look after Henry. If you want me to, that is. I'd understand if you'd prefer him to be with your parents."

"You'd do that?"

"I know how to work your tv and I'm sure I can figure out pop tarts," he said, smirking. "Henry can get some space, and I'll pick up a book from the ship on the way back to the loft so I have something to do. If he needs anything, I'll be there."

Emma had to smile at him. She hadn't even thought of asking Killian, although that wasn't because she didn't trust him with Henry. She did. It was just that, as friendly as they were whenever they were together, Killian hadn't spent much time with him.

But Henry didn't need someone to hang out with. All he needed was someone nearby in case anything happened.

"If Henry's okay with that then that would be great." She raised her head to press a quick kiss to Killian's jaw and then left his side. "I'll go ask him what he wants and then we can get out of here? You don't mind going to see Tamara now, do you? I promised Mary-Margaret I'd be at the loft this evening."

Emma didn't give Neal a chance to answer, already striding back towards her son.

He didn't look up when she reached him.

"Hey, kid?" It took a few seconds, but then he tilted his head towards her, one eyebrow raised. "You want to head back to the loft? You must be tired after all the partying you've been doing." The corners of his lips lifted slightly, the largest smile she'd seen on him since their return. He closed the storybook, sliding it along the table to her. "You don't mind if Killian stays with you for a bit, do you? Your dad and I need to sort something out, but I'll be back as soon as possible."

Henry paused, only halfway out of the booth. "Killian?"

"Yeah," she said hesitantly. "Storybrooke can be a dangerous place. I thought you could keep him safe for me?"

He glanced briefly at Killian. "I don't want to stay at the loft," he told her shortly. "I don't want to stay with Hook. I want to go home. With my mom."

"With Regina?" He nodded. "Are you sure?"

"I want to stay with her tonight."

"Oh, okay." She couldn't help but be taken aback. She'd somehow convinced herself that he'd stayed with Regina that morning for convenience, because he had his own room and bathroom at her house, but she hadn't thought he'd still want to be there. Emma looked back at Killian, Henry's glance at him suddenly weighing heavily on her. "If it's because of Killian, I can rearrange things. I can stay with you."

"It's not because of Killian."

She wasn't very convinced, but she doubted Henry felt like being pressed for a more detailed answer. "Okay. Yeah. Just, uh, just call me tomorrow and let me know what time you want me to pick you up."

He nodded, and then Emma watched as her son made his way over to Regina. The other women beamed as Henry spoke to her, as he asked to return back to her house, and it seemed like only minutes passed before Regina was excusing herself from Archie and leading Henry out the diner, her arm around his shoulder.

"It's okay." Emma hadn't noticed Mary-Margaret approaching, but her friend was at her side, her hand resting on Emma's arm and her gaze sympathetic. "He probably just wants to spend his first night back in his old room."

"Yeah, you said that this morning," Emma said bitterly. "I'm sure that's it."

"Are you still going to come back to the loft?"

It took a moment for Emma to answer. At that moment, she just wanted to go somewhere quiet, wanted to curl up in Killian's narrow bed, him pressed against her, and try to sleep Neverland away.

She wanted to wake up in a place where Neverland had never happened, where Henry was smiling and happy and with her.

But Mary-Margaret looked so despondent, as though she knew what Emma's answer was going to be, and Emma couldn't say no. It wouldn't be the same without Henry, but a calm evening filled with beers, snacks and friends might work just as well as a good night's sleep.

"Yeah, Killian and I will be there. I've got a couple of things to do first but we'll be at the loft."

Mary-Margaret seemed thrilled by her answer, and after patting Emma's arm a couple of times, she returned to David. At least they seemed to be enjoying the party.

Neal and Killian were already standing by the door when she rejoined them. She didn't bother to give them an explanation for Henry and Regina's quick exit from the party and she was glad neither of them asked for one. She didn't want to talk about it, and she _definitely_ didn't want to tell Killian about how Henry had reacted to the idea of staying with him.

"Let's go."

Neal left the diner first, Emma after him, and she was surprised when Killian followed too., the three of them crossing the short distance to the Bug. Neal stopped just before they reached it, staring at the bright yellow car as though it was the last thing he had expected to see, but he didn't ask any questions.

"Are you coming too?" she asked as Killian opened the door and leant over the seat to reach something in the back. "Don't you want to stay with Lacey?"

"I thought I'd spend the remainder of the afternoon aboard the Jolly Roger," he said, Emma's bag of clothes in his hand when he re-emerged. "I was a bit too distracted this morning to finish tidying it up. I thought I might as well take your clothes with me so I can put them away while I sort out the rest of the cabin."

"What? You going to put them in a drawer of their own?"

"I was thinking about it." He sidled close, his hook coming to rest gently on her hip. "Is that what you want?"

She breathed in, nodding her head only slightly, and he grinned at her. "So,I'll pick you up from the docks when we're done?"

"I'll see you then." Emma expected him to step away, but he didn't. He hesitated for a moment and then his expression softened and he moved even closer. "Are you alright? I saw Regina leaving with Henry and-" He stopped speaking suddenly, even though she hadn't said a word. Emma was sure he could read her answer in her eyes, because he gave her a soft smile and brushed a kiss to her temple. "Tonight. You can tell me tonight."

Emma kissed him, her hands gripping his leather jacket as she swayed into him. When the kiss broke, they stayed together, noses brushing, eyes closed, until Emma sighed and stepped away. "Tonight."

It took another moment before his hook left her hip and he started to walk away, her bag over his shoulder, and then it was just Emma, Neal and the car they used to share.


End file.
